


Stand by Me

by thewriterinpink



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh the Abridged Series
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot Collection, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:25:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 23,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23010115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterinpink/pseuds/thewriterinpink
Summary: A collection of different stories about this couple written through prompts. Summaries, ratings and warnings for each are inside.
Relationships: Yami Bakura/Marik Ishtar
Comments: 55
Kudos: 48





	1. Prompt 01 - The Beginning [Devotion]

**Author's Note:**

> A new slashfic community opened at dreamwidth and I had the bright idea to write a different small story for abridged!thiefshipping for each prompt. None of these will connect unless I say so. Also, rule wise, none of these stories are allowed to bypass 1k, although we'll see how much I follow that. I literally had to squeeze this first fic into the 1k mark lol. I hope you enjoy it! :D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik tries to convey to Bakura his devotion to their new relationship with flowers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this first prompt, 'The Beginning', I chose to write a scene on the blimp instead of their first official meeting. I thought it would be more interesting. Also, Japanese flower meanings slip in for some reason lol.
> 
> Rating: G, No Warnings Apply.

It was exciting. He had never had a friend before or a true partner in evil. Odion didn’t count because he was his brother, not to mention he was not that interested in crime. Now, Marik had someone who was both available for companionship, but also unshakably nefarious. He couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity if it had jumped right in front of his motorcycle.

Which it had. Marik was still reeling from that accident, but it wasn’t as bad as Bakura stabbing himself. How was Marik supposed to know the spirit would do something crazy like that? Bakura had taken him completely by surprise!

Were friends always this extreme or was that just a Bakura thing? Should he do something in return to prove his loyalty? Bakura had practically done a frigging blood ritual! How was Marik supposed to compare to that?

He didn’t want to give a bad impression and make Bakura leave. So, he needed to show he was just as invested in their new partnership as Bakura.

Marik stood in front of Bakura’s door to his room on the blimp, brows furrowed in determination, his back straight and his stance open. He had been standing here for several minutes, going over what he was going to say. He would probably have continued like this for a long waste of time if it wasn’t for the door swinging gape, Bakura’s irritated pale face moving in his line of sight.

“What the bloody hell do you want? Aren’t you acting suspiciously standing outside my door? Do you want people to find out we know each other?”

Marik blinked and looked around them, the halls completely deserted of fellow duellists. He couldn’t even hear anybody from the other rooms. Maybe someone would have come eventually, but it was unlikely Marik wouldn’t have heard them when they did.

“Well?” Bakura crossed his arms and frowned at him, cocking his hip to the right and tapping his foot. “What is it?”

“Uh.” Despite thinking heavily on his words, Marik suddenly had none. Bakura showing up like this had been unexpected. “Can you give me a second to regroup?”  
  


Bakura gave him a disbelieving look. Then his eyes narrowed and he tensed as though he was going to shut the door in Marik’s face, but his gaze flicked downward and he faltered.

“Huh? What’s that?”

“Hmm?” Marik looked too and remembered the bouquet of flowers he was holding. How did he forget they were frigging there? “Oh, right. These are for you. I know you’re supposed to give flowers when someone went to the hospital. At least, that’s what I read the etiquette is. We didn’t have flowers underground, you know. Just lots of dirt and rocks.”

An unreadable expression crossed Bakura’s face. Marik watched as a slow pink surfaced over his cheekbones, sweetening his complexion.

“What—? Are you an idiot? Put that away!”

Marik shook his head and stepped forward into Bakura’s space, causing him to quickly backtrack as though Marik was contagious. Marik shot him a winning smile and held the flowers out to Bakura.

“Don’t be rude. It was hard finding the exact type of flowers I needed under such short notice! I had to look up which flower meant what. Why do flowers speak anyway? Who decided that?”

Bakura seemed way more cautious than what Marik felt was warranted. It wasn’t like Marik was handing him a bomb or something. What was there to be worried about?

Bakura glanced dubiously from the bouquet and then Marik’s face, licking his bottom lip absently and unfurling his rigid posture. He tentatively reached out, but only hovered over the packaging.

“They mean something? Why go through the trouble of them _meaning something?_ ”

Bakura sounded mad now. He wouldn’t look at Marik’s face any longer. Marik told himself not to be nervous and explained his reasoning.

“Well, since we’re now friends and partners in crime, I wanted to make my intentions clear to you.”

Bakura opened his mouth as though to say something, but he gave up and stared at the flowers, curiosity tugging at his features. Marik soldiered on, pointing at each plant with an unsteady hand.

“Alright, so the morning glories here mean wilful promises and the lavender mean faithful. I’ll always be true to you and do whatever I can to help fulfill your goals. These anemones mean I’m being sincere. And you can know I’m paying attention to your needs because of these orange lily’s which mean revenge! And—” Marik hesitated on this flower, but eventually smiled bashfully—“the bluebells mean grateful. I’m just... really happy you want to be my friend, Bakura.”

Bakura frowned at him. At long last, he curled his hands around the bouquet and pulled it to him, staring into the variety of flowers.

“This is highly disorganized,” Bakura complained, but he didn’t sound like he was bothered by it. He slowly grew in colour across his face. “Is that what we are? Friends? I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

Embarrassment hit Marik, realizing that that was indeed true. Marik had been so excited to get to hang out with someone who wasn’t a sibling or a mind slave that he had forgotten that little tidbit.

“No matter,” Bakura said before Marik could speak. “You forgot this pink rose in the center?”

“Oh.” Marik looked at it too. “Happiness, confidence and trust. I think there’s a future made for us, Bakura. We got a lot of good ahead of us.”

Bakura thought hard for a moment. Then he nodded, his visage clearing. He even smiled, although it was much closer to an ironic smirk.

“I accept. Now, _go away,_ before someone sees you skulking around in places you shouldn’t be.”

Marik knew that was code for a mission well accomplished. Bakura had gotten his point and hadn’t laughed him away or scoffed at his naivety. The future looked bright. He couldn’t wait to see what adventures would be next for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next prompt: Warmth
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


	2. Prompt 02 - Warmth [His]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bakura marvels over his fortune.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't hard to figure out what I wanted to write for this one—Marik is very warm lol. 
> 
> Rating: T, No Warnings Apply.

Bakura wakes up slowly, deep contentment settling over him in a way he has never felt before. The room is quiet, but he can sense a subtle presence behind him, a body pressed warm and solid against his back, keeping him secure and heated. He knows who it’s coming from, but it’s still hard for him to properly wrap his brain around it.

He is sleeping in Marik’s bed. With Marik. That’s Marik’s arm curled around him and bringing him close. That’s Marik’s warmth seeping through every part of him. That’s Marik’s nose buried in his neck, his steady breath ghosting across Bakura’s skin. That’s his _boyfriend._

All of this is Bakura's. _Bloody hell._

Bakura, in the quiet of the early morning, allows a smile to creep across his usually unsatisfied face. It’s hard to be annoyed when he’s in this position. It’s like Marik’s warmth has bypassed the borders of his borrowed body and reached his soul, making something warm and cozy blossom anew inside him. It’s completely sappy and unrealistic, but he can’t give a damn about that. That’s what he feels right now.

And it’s what he’ll feel every day now that this is his new reality. Perhaps it had been lonely sleeping on his own, but he can’t imagine going back to that now. This is where he belongs. It’s a fervent belief.

If only this can last forever, but eventually Marik, the early riser, will wake up and leave Bakura, the late riser, in bed to sleep the entire morning away. Although Bakura has found he can convince Marik to stay longer if he uses the right tactics. How can Marik leave when everything he needs is right here? Preposterous to even think about.

These moments in bed aren’t the only times Bakura is this happy. This _warm._ If he’s honest, he can say most of the time he has this feeling whenever he’s around Marik. Being this close to someone, being _in love,_ it’s nothing like Bakura has ever experienced. He doesn’t want to let it go.

Bakura breathes slowly inward at this thought. Behind him, Marik tenses in sudden wakefulness, his arm around Bakura tightening and pulling him somehow even closer to Marik’s chest. It almost seems like an answer to Bakura’s thoughts. Marik has always had incredible timing.

“Mmm, Bakura,” he murmurs clumsily. “Your frigging hair got in my mouth again, yuck.”

Bakura bursts into breathy laughter, twisting in Marik’s grip. He feels everything all at once all over again, the expression on his face nothing he’s made for anyone but Marik. Marik is grinning back tenfold despite just waking up. How anyone can be that energetic in the morning is a mystery to Bakura and not something he’s about to find out now.

“Then don’t keep sticking your nose in it. You have it coming each time it happens. Not that you’ve ever learned once from any of your mistakes.”

Marik pouts and looks like he’s going to make some sort of fuss, but Bakura dissolves the situation by cupping Marik’s face and kissing him soundlessly on the lips. He’s ready to experience another type of warmth Marik can give him and he’s happy that Marik is just as eager to comply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! :) The next prompt is 'Oath'.


	3. Prompt 03 - Oath [Pinkie Promise]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik makes Bakura promise him something important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one talks about a canon element revealed about them (specifically Bakura) that I've never been able to get over. LK just casually mentions in one of the episodes of the let's play series that Bakura watches Marik sleep and it is never brought up again lol. I've always liked to think the only reason it got brought up at all was that Marik knows Bakura does it and wanted to subtly get him to stop. I don't think it worked too well though :P.
> 
> Rating: G, No Warnings Apply.

“Bakura,” Marik said, his eyes still closed but brows twitching, “you need to stop frigging doing this. I’m serious this time.”

Despite the surprise over Marik being awake, Bakura didn’t allow himself to falter. Instead, he smirked and raised his eyebrows, making himself comfortable at the edge of Marik’s bed.

“As opposed to when? I don’t remember you telling me to stop. I didn’t even know you _knew_ about this.”

Which was irritating because Bakura hated not being aware of something. Especially if that something involved Marik. He couldn’t possibly be the type to be so oblivious as to not know this blaring oversight.

Marik frowned. He opened his shockingly pretty eyes and regarded Bakura plainly.

“I was being subtle, _Bakura._ Unfortunately, you don’t seem to know that one very much.”

Bakura’s safeguards raised at those words, his desire to defend himself overriding anything else, but before he could begin to collect his thoughts, Marik had gotten into a sitting position and looped his pinkie finger around Bakura’s. He looked at Bakura so intently that Bakura had no choice but to quickly turn his head away.

“What the bloody hell are you doing? Go away!”

Despite what he said, he didn’t pull away from Marik, far too curious to listen to his embarrassment and move.

“We’re going to make a promise,” Marik explained patiently, “otherwise you’ll never learn. Pinkie promises are not allowed to be broken, okay? Since I don’t want you to get terribly hurt, you need to listen to it!”

“And what, pray tell, am I making a promise over?”

“You need to promise,” Marik said, shaking their conjoined pinkies up and down, “not to sneak into my room in the middle of the night and watch me sleep. I know you enjoy being creepy, Fluffy, I know it’s part of your brand, but this can’t keep happening! Not only is it weird, but I’m such a light sleeper that I just keep waking up and having to pretend to be asleep! It’s getting super annoying and making me tired during the day. I can’t get back to sleep once I know you’re there.”

Bakura was flabbergasted, mostly because he couldn’t believe Marik had been awake the whole time and he hadn’t noticed. Maybe he was oblivious, after all. Or perhaps he had wanted to be found out to see the outcome. Of course, nothing of interest would happen from it... except...

“Wait.” Bakura looked at Marik more closely. “Are you saying you’re more upset that you can’t fall back asleep than the fact I’m watching you sleep? Just for clarification purposes.”

“Well, it’s not like I like it or anything. Who would?” Bakura stayed quiet about the fact he wouldn’t mind at all if Marik chose to do the same. “But... it’s you, right? I expect strange stuff like this from you. I’m used to it. It can be comforting to see you being your usual uncanny self. Just... maybe not do it so much that it affects my sleeping pattern. You got it?”

Bakura nodded, wondering if this meant he could circumvent the promise by following this loophole. It was fine if he did it _sometimes,_ just not enough that Marik would have to scold him for it. And if he could be more careful and find a way to do it without waking Marik...

“I promise to leave you alone at night as you see fit,” Bakura said, keeping his unsavoury thoughts to himself.

Marik brightened considerably, pulling away and falling back down to lay in his bed.

“Well then, that’s settled. You can go now. I do want to get some sleep, you know.”

He closed his eyes and turned over, giving Bakura his back. Bakura marvelled at the stupidity of Marik leaving himself open like that around a guy who had just broken into his room, watched him sleep and very much still had a knife on his person. Still, he did not comment on it and simply rose from the bed and exited the room.

Better luck next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Prompt: Change.


	4. Prompt 04 - Change [It's You]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bakura's self-conscious now that he's back in his old body, but Marik reassures him that he likes him this way too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write about this 'cause it's not like this subject has ever been brought up in canon. Whether Bakura will be in his original body or a copy of Ryou's at the end of the series (where Bakura obviously gets a second chance, we all remember that happening at the end of the original Yu-Gi-Oh, right?), Marik will obviously still love him regardless! ^^
> 
> Rating T, No Warnings Apply.

The scowl pulling at the corners of Bakura’s lips are familiar, the defensive body language a remembered element of Bakura, but the rest is so new and different that Marik knows he’s staring too long and too often. Bakura practically barks out his irritation with him.

“Is my appearance such a change that I’ve become unappealing to you?”

Marik jumps, breaking out of the strange hypnotic viewing that has fallen over him. He quickly shakes his head in denial, scooting closer toward Bakura on the couch since it looks like he won’t come near on his own. Bakura’s now purple eyes regard him warily and it almost seems like he’ll move away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns his head to the side, letting the shorter grey hair hide his expression from Marik’s sight.

“Of course not! You’re always pretty, no matter in your own body or Ryou’s.” That mollifies Bakura a bit, his tense body beginning to soften. “I’m just not used to it this way! But I like it, I promise.”

Bakura hums thoughtfully. He sends Marik a quick and careful glance, but seeing no deception there, settles into Marik’s space, his arms resting around Marik’s shoulders as he peers into Marik’s eyes. He quirks his lips into a smirk.

“You haven’t even seen all of it yet. Are you so certain?”

“Positive. I mean, it’s _you_.” Marik presses their foreheads together and smiles sweetly. “I’m in love with you.”

Bakura chokes as though he’s never heard Marik say that before. His face heats under Marik’s, but it can’t be seen in the way it had back in the old days. Marik accepts that.

“Don’t—get sappy— _don’t_ —I’m warning you.”

Marik laughs at the typical response. He nuzzles their faces together and then kisses Bakura. He tastes exactly the same as Marik remembers him tasting, it’s not quite so different after all. Only the cosmetics have been altered. When Marik pulls away far later than he means to, he can also say that Bakura kisses the same way he did before too.

Whatever insecurity Bakura felt is long gone, a pleased besotted look taking its place. With a come-hither gaze, he moves to loosen his shirt enough to show some of his skin teasingly, then leans back against the couch cushion in such a practiced fashion that _of course_ this is still his Bakura.

“If you’re so confident you want me like this and wouldn’t wish for anything else, then kindly go ahead and prove it to me. You know what to do.”

Marik does and eagerly complies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next prompt is joy.


	5. Prompt 05 - Joy [The Good Kind]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bakura has an important secret to tell Marik.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just gooey thief fluff. Established relationship is far too powerful with these two. Also, Bakura is, and always will be, a Tsundere lol. 
> 
> Rating G, No Warnings Apply.

The living room was dark and the soft flickering of the TV only illuminated small parts of them. Marik supposed that was the reason for Bakura’s sudden boldness. As the show they were watching turned to commercials, Marik was about to rewind through them when Bakura’s voice distracted him from his attempts.

“Marik,” Bakura said in a surprisingly subdued voice, matching the quiet of the room as though not to startle him, “can I tell you a secret?”

“Um.” Marik lowered the remote in his hand and looked at Bakura sitting so close beside him. Shadows played on Bakura’s face, making it hard to read him. “What kind of secret?”

“The good kind,” Bakura assured. He wasn’t looking at Marik when he spoke though. “I wanted to say it for awhile, but... you know I’m not very good with words of the heart. You beat me there in every way.”

Marik twisted the ring on one of his fingers anxiously, wondering wildly what this could be about. He nodded for Bakura to keep going when he noticed a hesitation and a quick side glance his way. The reassurance paid off as Bakura abruptly sidled even closer into his space, enough that Marik chose to wrap his arm around Bakura in an obvious cuddle, allowing Bakura to hide his face by nuzzling Marik’s neck. It tickled pleasantly when Bakura breathed and it was easier for Marik to hear his next words with his mouth so close. Bakura made sure his words weren’t muffled and that his point came across loud and clear.

“Marik, surely you know this secret already? I’m not the subtle type, especially when it comes to you. Even so, we’re dating, aren’t we? And you’ve said it to me already a handful of times. It’s only fair I eventually do the same, no matter how unreasonably embarrassed I get when it’s said. I think it all the time anyway, so don’t you want to hear me say it?”

Marik was starting to get an inkling of where this was going, but he told himself sternly not to get his hopes up. Although it may sound like what he was hoping it was, that didn’t mean he needed to hype himself up for it when it could be something completely different. He wasn’t in the mood to crash and burn tonight.

“Yeah!” he said enthusiastically, apparently choosing not to listen to the warnings in his own brain as building excitement surfaced. “I like hearing you say stuff, Bakura. Go ahead and lay it on me!”

He felt Bakura smirk against his skin, clearly amused by his behaviour. Then Bakura circled his arms around Marik’s neck and leaned up so his mouth was hovering over Marik’s ear. With a shaky inhale that left Marik knotted in anticipation, Bakura spoke with an awkward yet sweet attitude, a private shyness bubbling in his tone.

“I love you dearly, Marik Ishtar. Always and forever.”

Marik swore he breathed in all the air in the room and kept it in his lungs because he suddenly couldn’t function anymore. With those words said in such a way it was like a physical blow, but the good kind? Yeah, the good kind. Bakura hadn’t been lying about it being the good kind. He practically choked on the elation and delight that he felt at this moment. This was the best day of his life, no exaggeration.

“Don’t forget, okay?” Bakura’s demeanour immediately switched to grousing while Marik was processing his euphoria. “Get that to stick in your thick skull. If anything does, it needs to be these words I say to you now. Got it? I don’t know if I can say them again so soon.”

“I promise,” Marik was quick to answer. “I’ve scorched them into my memory, they aren’t going anywhere.”

“Good,” Bakura said, moody to hide his discomfort over being so vulnerable. He was burying his face in Marik’s neck again, but this time he wasn’t taking care to keep his voice from being unheard. “It’ll be easier to say it again at a later date if you already know.”

Marik hummed in agreement, far too lost in blissful joy to complain about how Bakura was treating him. He knew it was just a defence mechanism anyway and he almost never minded the grumpy disposition. In fact, it was a part of Bakura that he loved and he conveyed as such when he snuggled into Bakura’s space, coaxing him out of his safe place in Marik’s neck and whispering his own revealing sweetness into Bakura’s ear.

The heated blush and gleeful pleasure he read from Bakura told Marik he made the right call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this cuteness! The next prompt is... dirty ;)


	6. Prompt 06 - Dirty [Contrast]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik hates anything unclean, but living with Bakura gives him the exact opposite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mod who posts the prompts on the comm made a bit of a joke about how easy this prompt could be interpreted in an nsfw way. Since that seems like the obvious decision, I went for a different route and chose to write about a headcanon I have about the two. Still managed to bring up some nsfw, but it's not the main focus of the story so I consider this a job well done on not being too perverted lol. I hope you enjoy! :D
> 
> Rating M, No Warnings Apply.

Marik paused in the hallway, regarding Bakura’s hamper turned over on its side, the dirty laundry spilled out like a lake across his bedroom. Bakura was nowhere to be seen within their apartment, meaning whatever had happened he had left it there to be cleaned later. Although Marik wanted to believe Bakura had good intention to clean it up, he knew that Bakura would leave it there for as long as he possibly could—which would be until laundry day three days from now. The thought of the mess lingering for that long had Marik stumbling forward, entering Bakura’s room without a second thought and scooping up the laundry for him.

Uncleanliness was abhorrent to Marik. As a child, he was used to servants keeping everything tidy and spotless around him. Living in an environment like that had transferred its ways on to him, meaning even though he had never cleaned a day in his life before, ever since he started living alone with just Bakura he had found himself learning to do so anyway. It was the only way to put his mind at ease—getting Bakura to clean after himself seemed impossible. Unlike him, Bakura never minded the chaos.

Like last week, when Bakura had deigned to leave the home for once and came back tracking mud—and what Marik had been pretty certain was blood but he didn’t want to ask—all over the place. Explaining to Bakura why leaving that to dry out on the floor wouldn’t be good was a lost cause and so Marik didn’t bother, simply choosing to hover after Bakura with a mop and a distressed frown.

Or when they ate together. Bakura would get the food everywhere—on himself or on the table—and Marik throughout the entire meal would have a strong urge to wipe Bakura’s face for him. He had to control himself by remembering that cleaning now wouldn’t do, Bakura would just replace the gunk with more, so he had to be patient and wait until Bakura was finished. Then he would clean Bakura and the table and wherever else it managed to land and then he’d ponder why he kept feeding Bakura food that he’d always get everywhere in the first place.

Wet towels forgotten on the bathroom floor. Wrappers and cans left on the coffee table. Dishes laying deserted practically everywhere possible to be put. Books and magazines never put away. Makeup stained or spilled on the counter. Mysterious food and drink marks on the kitchen table. The list could go on and on without a stop. Marik sometimes believed that the moment he looked away another mess by Bakura was sure to be made for him to eventually give into fixing.

Perhaps this was some sort of karma. Marik had made everyone in his life take care of his space and so now he was forced to live with someone who pulled the same on him.

No, no, Marik had been better even as a child. At least he had never been complacent in living in junk and grime. It was obvious that Bakura had raised himself all on his own in undesirable conditions. He didn’t care because he didn’t know any other way to live.

  
Marik even hit walls when he, uh, shared his love with Bakura. When they were finished, Bakura would much rather go to sleep cuddled in Marik’s arms than bother to clean himself up. Which was flattering, but totally unsanitary! Marik could hardly stand being so sweaty, let alone be covered in _fluids._ He would rather take a quick shower, but that meant abandoning Bakura, so he would stay and try to run damage control instead. That meant finding tissues and rubbing away the stuff that was making him cringe now that the fun was over. Hugging Bakura while they were both still sticky with cold sweat was still bad, but he had learned to override that particular thought, at least.

The most ironic part here was that Bakura’s chores around the home consisted of keeping things tidy. He consistently did the laundry and dishes, for instance. Marik had even been interrupted before during his free time gaming when Bakura had abruptly started vacuuming the living room. Bakura had frigging scrubbed their tub not too long ago. The problem was that he only did these things at the exact time he wanted to and not a second earlier. Sporadic as it was, he couldn’t say Bakura was completely without a desire to be clean. It was just what Bakura deemed were the less important things that he ignored.

As Marik finished putting all Bakura’s clothes back where they belonged, he had to be honest. Marik didn’t actually mind looking after Bakura’s messes. It was nice to be helpful and show how much he cared. Bakura didn’t mind when he did it, maybe he even expected Marik to after all the times he had before. It was just part of their dynamic, what made up Marik Ishtar and Florence Bakura as a couple.

Marik would loath to ask for anything different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it! Thanks for reading this far into the prompts! The next one is letter.


	7. Prompt 07 - Letter [Love Notes]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik continues to write small messages to Bakura. Bakura refuses to follow such a foolish notion. At least, not immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has an embarrassing ending for me. Bakura calls Marik an old Britsh pet name. I might have made this one a little too sweet lol. 
> 
> Rating G, No Warnings Apply.

Bakura told himself it was stupid and childish the first time Marik slid the folded piece of paper across the kitchen table to him. Giving Marik a suspicious once over and finding he wasn’t forthcoming on any information, Bakura had heavily sighed and reluctantly revealed the contents of the paper, pausing uncertainly at the words inside.

_Do you like me? Check the box below! Yes __. No __. Not sure __._

A strange emotion fluttered in his chest as he wondered what exactly Marik was doing asking questions he already knew the answer to. They were already a couple who did all the stuff associated with it. What was even the point of this? Was he taking the piss out of Bakura?

“Well,” Marik asked, expectant and hopeful, “do you?”

Bakura stared for a moment more. Then he scowled and took the pencil given to him to crudely scribble in the ‘No’ box, the ‘Yes’ box and finally the ‘Not sure’. He threw the paper back at Marik where it fluttered into Marik’s lunch. Marik gingerly pulled it out, unbothered by the rude behaviour, and studied Bakura’s response. His lips quirked into a pleased smile, eyelids hooding to match it.

“Ah, I knew you’d say that!”

Predictable wasn’t what Bakura wanted to be. Still, he had hoped Marik got the message and would leave him alone from this nonsense. He was certain this was just a one-off, heat of the moment situation. Then a few days later while they were going to bed, Marik handed him a new letter, eyeing Bakura with an adoring gaze from his pillow. Bakura had half a mind to rip it up without looking, but that expression plus Marik’s apparent capability in reading his future intentions convinced him not to. Instead, he unfolded it with a grumpy attitude and read it quickly.

_Every day is a good day when I get to go to sleep and wake up next to you._

Bakura frowned and shifted under the blankets, deigning Marik with an unimpressed glance as he crushed the flimsy paper into a ball in his hand.

“Get better material,” he groused, proudly turning his back to Marik.

He stubbornly ignored the part of himself that apparently enjoyed the attempt at flattery. He was still convinced Marik was being foolish. He stomped down that weakness before it could grow unbearable.

The next day, Marik had somehow without his knowledge sneaked into the bathroom while he was showering and wrote a message to him in the mirror. Was Marik living out some bl comic book fantasy? Did he think he was being romantic?

_Unlike the steam on this mirror, my love for you will never fade._

“More like annoying,” Bakura muttered, shaking himself out of his embarrassment to rub his hand against the surface, erasing the message forever. If he did so with less force and much slower, no one in his head bothered to comment on it which he was grateful for.

During an evil council meeting, while Marik was handing out detailed instructions for their next several ‘heists’, another note was between the folds of the papers given to Bakura. It slid out and fell into Bakura’s lap—Bakura scooped it up and furiously ripped it open, afraid someone else in the room would gain interest in it before he could dispose of it. He scanned the words and swallowed, hesitating in his instinctual desire to tear it into a billion tiny pieces.

_I wish we were alone._

Simple words, but they did their job. Bakura’s heart squeezed in agreement and he bit his lip, glaring at the dreadful note with feigned disdain. How many times did Bakura think this same thing when they were stuck in a crowd? Countless. If Bakura could have his way, he’d never interact with anyone that wasn’t Marik ever again. Bakura hated people and their noise.

As Marik finished off the meeting, Bakura slowly breathed in and wrote a simple phrase there, his first real response since this started.

_Me too._

He stuffed it into Marik’s back pocket as they were leaving, the other council members talking amongst themselves. Marik was confused, but his visage lit up when he caught Bakura’s scrawl, turning to beam at Bakura. Bakura didn’t look at him, face turning pink at finally acknowledging this one-sided exchange between them. Maybe this wasn’t so bad as long as it didn’t get out of hand.

Later that night, Marik pressed a letter into Bakura’s loose palm as they sat together in the living room. Bakura obediently opened it, avoiding Marik’s eyes as he did so. He wasn’t quite over the fact he had given in yet.

_I knew you were the one when we first met._

Bakura was quick to whip his head toward Marik with shrewdness.

“You liar,” he accused. “You denied being gay and refused my advances. When exactly did you have the mindset to see me as ‘the one’?”

Marik shrugged bashfully.

“I knew. I just pretended not to. So...” Marik regarded him more closely. “Are you going to write back?”

Bakura rolled his eyes. He complied. Marik wasn’t as satisfied as he had been at the one he got before.

_I knew you were gay when we first met. I wanted your prick when we first met. You were an idiot when we first met._

“Bakura,” Marik whined, “you were supposed to say something sweet in return! We’re writing love notes!”

Bakura raised an eyebrow.

“And you say I’m not?”

Marik pursed his lips.

“Well... okay. We’ll work on your presentation later. Just... read this one too please!”

Bakura did. Then he wrote back. Marik calmed down instantly as he read their words together.

_Fluffy, I love you._

_As do I you, turtledove._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Trinket


	8. Prompt 08 - Trinket [Uncertain Emotions]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bakura and Marik try out a mood ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is classic pre-relationship thiefshipping. It's very easy to imagine this one happening to them knowing the strange situations they get up to (to Bakura's continuous exasperation). Too bad mood rings are all bogus, but at least they can be real in fiction. 
> 
> As a side note, I got the mood ring colours from [this](https://jewelry.lovetoknow.com/The_Meaning_of_Colors_in_Mood_Rings) chart. There was a lot of conflicting information on what colour meant what, so I just went with this one. It's not worth getting too involved researching about it if everyone thinks differently.
> 
> Rating G, No Warning Apply.

“Hey, Bakura...” Marik says in a sing-song fashion, “come try this ring on for me!”

Bakura raises his eyebrows where he is perusing a stack of postcards. Useless knickknacks, figurines and key chains hover all around him on the shelves. This is a novelty shop, any ring here would be cheap as pennies. Marik’s voice implies it has some value though and that’s suspicious to him.

Marik waves him over some more and so Bakura sighs, pocketing a random key chain on the way over just to show he can. Marik looks at him expectantly. Reluctantly, Bakura holds out his left hand, cheeks growing warm as Marik takes it and carefully slides the ring on his _ring finger._ Bakura doesn’t think Marik notices.

“There! Now, watch and be amazed!”

They both look at the ring expectantly. It takes a moment, but Bakura sees the blue turn to a soft pink. He frowns, pulling the ring closer to his face to get a better look at it. Marik is scrambling to read the instructions on the box holding the rings, excitement coming off of him in drones.

“Oh! Looks like you’re either uncertain or beginning to feel a sense of interest! Did the mood ring catch your attention enough to startle you, Fluffy?”

Bakura frowns and looks up from his examination of the strange ring.

“What? A mood ring? Why am I trying on a mood ring?”

“Because,” Marik says in exasperation, “you’re impossible to understand sometimes! Your emotions are all over the frigging place. I thought a mood ring might help me out.”

“I’m impossible to understand emotionally? Are you certain I’m the one who gives out mixed signals? Really?”

“Yes. And you know I’m right. Your ring has already changed colours again and I just put it on you! See, look at it!”  
  


Marik grabs Bakura’s wrist and raises the ring back up to his eyesight again. The ring is now suddenly white. Marik looks back at the sign, not that Bakura wants to know what he’s apparently feeling. The frustration bubbling under his skin is an answer enough. 

“Well, you’re either frustrated or bored or confused. So, what is it?”

“Take a wild bloody guess, Marik.”

Marik sends him a quick look, then shrugs.

“Perhaps this isn’t as clear as I thought. It only tells you what you could be feeling, not any of the specifics. If it means multiple emotions at once, that still leaves me confused.”

“Then stay confused,” Bakura grouses, ripping the mood ring off his finger before it can predict anything else. “If you can’t understand me on your own, then you’re a bigger idiot than I already believed you to be.”

Marik doesn’t take offence to that. Instead, he studies the mood ring and takes it from Bakura, slipping it on his own finger. Out of curiosity, Bakura stays to see what colour it changes to, wondering why he has to be so desperate all the time that he’s listening to a bogus mood reader just for some clues.

The ring turns dark blue and for some reason Marik chokes. Bakura eyes him closely and then flicks his gaze to the words on the box, careless in his regard for it. He catches the phrase ‘showing interest in love and romance’ before Marik is shaking his head and taking the ring off quickly.

“Never mind!” he squeaks. “This is a dud! A terrible idea from the start. Let’s go, Bakura.”

Marik scurries away from the mood rings and Bakura’s judgment, but in contrast Bakura has no desire to leave. His heartbeat is thumping hard in his chest and in a moment of fanciful silliness, he puts on the ring one more time just to see if Marik’s reading wasn’t some fluke.

The ring turns red around his finger. A colour of high energy. Passion. In this case, _romantic desire._

Bakura bites his lip thoughtfully, then pockets the mood ring too as he exits the store to catch up with Marik’s hurried retreat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bright is the next one!


	9. Prompt 09 - Bright [Sunscreen & Sandcastles]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the beach, Bakura and Marik put on each other's sunscreen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's been awhile! I guess I've been taking a short break on posting. I've been rereading this one and I got to say it's probably one of my favs. I hope you like it too! ^^
> 
> As a side note, this one they're in Japan instead of Egypt. Does anyone else feel like they might spend more time there than canon suggests? Like, sometimes I think about the fact that every time they think up a plan to defeat the Pharoh, they have to travel all the way from Egypt back to Japan just to pull it off lol. If I had to do that all the time, I would decide to stay in Japan and vacation for awhile just to make the whole trip worth it. Also, it's because a part of me always wonders what Ryou's dad thinks about 'Ryou' living alone in Egypt with some random boy... Perhaps they have to go back to Japan whenever Ryou's dad plans to be there just to keep up appearance? 
> 
> Rating T, No Warnings Apply.

Bakura’s pale skin glows under the brightness of the summer sun as they set up their beach spot. There’s an abundance of it right now since Bakura is wearing swim trunks. Marik doesn’t know where to direct his gaze and it’s starting to set panic in his mind.

Bakura doesn’t help, of course, when the spirit rummages in their beach bag and pulls out the sunscreen Marik remembers packing. He holds it out between them, arches an eyebrow and smiles slyly.

“With how sweltering it is today and my skin, it’s likely I’ll burn instead of tan. Obviously, I can’t reach everywhere myself, so I’ll need your help, Marik.”

Marik knows this ploy. He’s seen it enough in his comic books to understand Bakura’s intention and where this will lead. Yet he can’t just deny Bakura any help, he doesn’t want Bakura to get hurt by the shine from the sun, so he nods his head and scoots closer, ignoring the skin-on-skin contact he’ll have to endure for this to work out. It’s not like he’s been fantasizing about touching Bakura ever since he saw him in only the shorts or anything.

Marik squints and squirms and blames it on the ever-present sun. Then he diligently lathers Bakura with the sunscreen because no matter how nervous he is he isn’t a quitter. Bakura jumps at the contact as though burned, clearly not expecting Marik to give in so easily, and Marik is privately grateful to not be the only one acting the fool here. Bakura asks for things but seldom ever thinks he’ll get them—it makes it easy for Marik to fluster him often.

Bakura clears his throat and pulls his hair out of the way, holding on to it as he chances a glance at Marik over his shoulder. Marik moves up Bakura’s back to his shoulder blades now that the hair isn’t there to prevent him and wonders at the common smoothness there as opposed to his own. Even though the beach isn’t so packed and they’ve found a relatively deserted area to camp out in, Marik has chosen to wear a crop top with his briefs because he doesn’t want to be bothered by people staring. Now he suddenly wishes he didn’t just so Bakura can put sunscreen on his back too. It’s a guilty thought.

He’s almost disappointed when he’s done. Still, he pulls back and waits for Bakura’s verdict. Bakura takes a moment to respond, apparently lost in the feeling as much as he was.

“Well?” Marik prompts him, leaning back on his hands and spreading his legs out to twitch playfully. “Is that it?”

“...No,” Bakura says after a moment, turning to him quickly with a hopeful gaze. “You didn’t do my front.”

Marik wants to protest, surely Bakura can do that himself, but he has a hard time saying no to Bakura once things start going. He does Bakura’s chest and stomach too, noticing yet not mentioning Bakura’s unsteady puffs of breath. Instead, he simply fibs like always, hoping that will stem the bright pulse of desire building between them.

“The sun must be getting to you already, Fluffy. You’re breathing really hard. Come over here under the umbrella some more. Have a drink.”

Bakura’s face twists at the misunderstanding he thinks Marik is having, but follows Marik’s instructions now that he is done with the sunscreen. Marik gives him a drink from their cooler, some Japanese soda Marik got in town that he wasn’t certain was actually going to be good or not. Bakura gulps it down without wincing or complaining so Marik takes one too at the reassurance. It isn’t bad.

Bakura chooses to do the rest of his body himself, getting his legs and arms and face and neck—the latter two which he only does because Marik badgers him to. Every spot needs to be covered, Marik tells him.

“Then what about you?” Bakura asks, now irritated instead of flirty or aroused. “Let me help you. After all, you’re wearing a Speedo.”

“Oh! I can do that... myself...”

Marik trails off as Bakura stubbornly begins to apply the sunscreen for him, rubbing it into his legs and getting his midriff, the part of his back still exposed, his arms, neck. When Bakura gets to Marik’s face, he swears it must be already burned because it feels too hot for his liking. He’s surprised when Bakura doesn’t say anything about it, but the sun must be giving him a good cover story, after all.

“There. Happy now? It’s all over your exposed skin too. You don’t have to thank me.”

Bakura is too close. Was he this close before when Marik was doing this too? Marik is certain he can’t breathe. Somehow, he manages to speak anyway.

“We should—” he swallows— “we should go make a sandcastle. A real big one. Something that takes a lot of time and effort and focus. When we’re done, I could be the king and you could be the qu—” But he cuts off because he doesn’t want to finish that sentence. What he was going to say hangs in the air for awhile in a painful, embarrassing way. A chatterbox as always, even worse when he’s nervous and exposed like this.

Bakura laughs suddenly, a brilliant and open smile lighting up his face, and he falls away from Marik to sit, nodding a few times as he does so. Marik just stares in shock.

“Alright,” Bakura says. “We can make a sandcastle. The bloody biggest one on the beach. The other beachgoers won’t know what hit them.”

Yeah, Marik would rather do that than think about the way the glow in Bakura’s eyes makes his heart flutter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next prompt will be Ink.


	10. Prompt 10 - Ink [Dark Adventure]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the dead of night, Marik and Bakura move to spend time in Marik's cactus treehouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't watched the lets plays in a long time, but I do tend to retain a lot of information from them regardless even with my shit memory. Even so, there's some stuff that slipped through and I CAN'T believe I didn't know about the cactus treehouse. Here I am, minding my own business, deciding to give the beginning of the lets plays I rewatch and I stumble upon this tidbit of information. Marik Ishtar has a cactus treehouse and my brain decided that wasn't important information. Hello??? It's a cactus treehouse!! Anyway, after hearing about that I, of course, needed to solidify this information into a fic so I could never forget it again lol. 
> 
> Also, this one's a bit of a stretch XD. I couldn't think of anything directly related to ink so I just decided to compare something to ink. Ah, it's so dark... IT'S LIKE INK pfff. 
> 
> Rating T, No Warnings Apply.

The desert was much cooler at night and Bakura discretely shivered. It was pitch black outside, resembling the colour of ink coating the entire landscape, and not for the first time Bakura wondered why he was out here on such a bleak night.

That answer was the same as it always was. Marik was making a lot of noise behind him, rummaging around in his high-end sports car for whatever it was he needed on this impromptu adventure he had set up for them. Bakura would bemoan this situation, but he hadn’t put up much of a fight when it had been offered to him. He couldn’t turn around and say something bad about it now.

Squinting at the endless dark, Bakura could just make out Marik’s stupid cactus treehouse. He wondered if any of the bodies he buried under it were still there or if Marik had gotten rid of them once he found out. It was unlikely Marik would have let them be after finding out about them—he was particular about where Bakura disposed of bodies. For some reason, he thought they belonged in morgues and cemeteries and not where it was easy for him to stumble upon them.

Otherwise, Bakura couldn’t see shite and it—along with being so cold—was starting to piss him off. He was seconds away from reeling on Marik and demanding they go home.

But then a bright light cut through the ink and silenced his thoughts. Marik, flashlight now in hand, sauntered over to him and kissed his cheek, sneaking his free hand to smooth over Bakura’s lower back. Bakura was inexplicably much warmer and less cranky. He flicked his gaze toward Marik, waiting expectantly for some explanation for why they were here.

Instead, Marik said, “I thought I could see you shivering! Are you cold, Fluffy? I told you to wear something warmer. Here. Have my coat. I don’t need it anyway.”

Bakura didn’t get much of an opportunity to decline since Marik was already wiggling out of his coat and draping it over Bakura’s shoulders as he spoke. Bakura frowned at him, but Marik’s warmth had seeped into the garment and made it hard for him to be mad with this arrangement. Marik was always so warm anyway—it was probably true he didn’t need a coat. Considering that, Bakura had a sudden suspicion that Marik had been warming it specifically for him. Sneaky bugger.

Marik grabbed his hand once the coat was properly secure on Bakura and they made their way toward the impressive structure. Marik had somehow found the biggest cactus imaginable, although it was likely he had gotten his Steves or his brother to find it for him as well as build on it. Bakura had been in it more times than he could count, a lot of which Marik hadn’t been with him. It was a surprisingly great place to get away when he was frustrated or contemplative or just wanted to be alone. Marik had only had it built because he was a ridiculous child—although he had somehow convinced Marik to do stuff to him in there that told the contrary.

Perhaps this sodding tree house currently lost in the darkness around him meant a little more to him than first thought. It made him suddenly consider that that was why they were here. Sentimental value. Marik was a romantic, as well as someone who categorized and put significance on specific moments others easily forgot. It could very well be that there was something important here, although Bakura hadn’t the foggiest idea of what it could be.

“Marik, did I forget our anniversary again?”

Marik was helping him up the ladder from behind. Bakura hadn’t missed the strong grip of one hand against his hip or the fact that this position left his arse in Marik’s face. When he didn’t get an immediate answer, he turned his head to look down at Marik, shining the flashlight into Marik’s face and making him squawk and quickly shut his eyes, almost losing his balance as he did so.

“Hey, Bakura—!”

“Focus. I was asking you a question. My arse was not.”

Marik flushed under the judgment of the light, but then he shook his head and smiled, stepping up several steps so he was hovering completely behind Bakura, his body familiarly close and comforting.

“No. It’s nothing like that. I just wanted to spend time with you.” He pressed his face into Bakura’s neck, nuzzling sweetly enough to make Bakura’s eyes flutter shut. “You’re my favourite person in the entire world. And the afterlife. No one can compare.”

Bakura bristled, feeling his face grow so warm and blotchy he just might lose grip on the ladder and fall straight into Marik’s waiting arms. He didn’t take kindly to having such a weak response scooped out of him like that. Growing suddenly irate, he twisted on the ladder fully to chew Marik out, but fumbled with their flashlight, causing it to fall past them on the ground and bringing them both into the pool of ink again.

Marik took in a sharp and unsteady breath, fear of the dark making him go still at the suddenness of it, but Bakura was quick to reassure him, losing all his irritation in the process. He hugged Marik as a reminder of his presence and said, “I’m still here, love. Do you want me to go down and get it?”

Marik hesitated but shook his head. Bakura couldn’t see him very well, but he could still feel him as he moved out of Bakura’s embrace and climbed down to grab the flashlight. Marik illuminated the two of them within its gold, a smile on his lips despite the slight scare.

“All’s good,” Marik said cheerfully. “Now, come on, up you go. I didn’t prepare a blanket fort up there for nothing!”

Bakura relaxed. He followed Marik’s instructions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's raining somewhere... in the next one because the prompt is Rain.


	11. Prompt 11 - Rain [Appreciate the New]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While sitting in a cafe, Marik watches the rain and Bakura watches him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the story where Bakura puts his foot in his mouth two times in as many minutes. This boy will stumble his way awkwardly through every social situation with Marik and somehow still come out on top in the end XD. 
> 
> Probably going to take a mild break during AO3's transition with their new email IP. I don't want the notification emails for this story to get lost, so it's better to be safe than sorry. I'll start posting again once that's over!

It was raining and Marik was delighted. There was a wide grin on his face, eyes sparkling with joy and wonder, as he gazed outside from where they sat in a cafe in Japan, the heat from his hot chocolate long forgotten and cooling unnoticed.

Bakura didn’t see what the fuss was about. Sure, they didn’t get much rain back in Egypt, but it wasn’t like water falling from the sky was all that impressive. It was cold and wet and harsh, the atmosphere dreary and lonely even, which wasn’t Marik’s attitude in the slightest. Marik was sunshine and hot desert sand and a cool drink when parched. Rain was the farthest from his personality and aura it was possible to be.

In fact, it sounded more along with Bakura’s disposition.

Bakura frowned thoughtfully and twisted the teacup between his hands, warming them against the surface of the cup. The heat and smell from the tea wafted up to meet him and it soothed any ill will he could have under the present moment. He took a slow sip from it, placed it carefully back down, closed his eyes and briefly listened to the rain he could just make out past the protection from the glass window they were both facing.

“...Want to talk about it?”

Marik didn’t immediately respond or move away from the window. Bakura opened his eyes to make certain Marik had heard and reached out to pinch his arm when it looked like he was ignoring Bakura. The action was probably harder than needed, but Marik didn’t need to squawk and flail like that either.

“B-Bakura?! I’m not a pincushion! That hurts!”

Despite himself, Bakura smirked and twisted in his chair to face Marik, his hand lightly stroking the bare skin of Marik’s arm and enjoying the way the hair there began to stand on end. He always took great pride and pleasure out of playing with Marik’s senses enough to rock the boat just a little.

“Mm, sorry,” Bakura said, making certain his apology came off as insincere just to see Marik puff his cheeks in frustration at him. “Although, if you were a pincushion I would have stuck something much sharper than my nails in you.”

Bakura’s expression darkened for effect and he meant the whole thing in jest, but Marik looked instantly pained, brows furrowing in distress and muscles tightening in his face. Bakura had all of a second to rethink his words before he was cursing his stupidity in reminding Marik of sharp objects near his skin. Before he could try and amend his words, Marik talked over him.

“How often does it rain here? I’ve only been in Japan for a week and half of it has been like this.” Marik breathed out a sigh of appreciation and longing as his eyes flicked across the outside world. “It’s so pretty.”

Bakura scowled.

“It’s just rain,” Bakura snapped, vaguely wondering if it was possible to be jealous of the weather. Was it so bad that he wished Marik would look at him like that and say nice things about him? “You can see it on any sodding day.”

Marik shook his head stubbornly and finally pulled his cup of hot chocolate to his lips. He swirled the liquid around in his mouth as he thought and swallowed it only when his mind settled.

“Nuh-uh, not back home in Egypt.” He paused for a moment and sent the briefest of uncertain glances Bakura’s way, visage strangely serious and neutral. “Not underground.”

Bakura froze. He studied Marik silently, feeling suddenly guilty and embarrassed. Saying something uncouth and it leading to unfortunate reminders for Marik was one thing—twice in two minutes was pushing it too far for the spirit to take. He promptly bent his head and busied himself with his drink, leaving Marik to do whatever he liked on his own. Watch the rain some more and forget about Bakura’s inept behaviour hopefully.

He was surprised when a gentle hand began petting his hair. He twisted his lips but decided not to respond negatively to Marik’s affection. He, of course, secretly liked it, but even if he didn’t it would make him feel better if he let Marik have this. So, he obediently drank his tea and pretended not to be melting at the attention that was best given to a cat. He didn’t want to think about that right now.

Glancing up, he noticed that Marik was staring outside again even as he kept a steady stroke through Bakura’s hair. He was marvelling at the world he had been told he wasn’t allowed to see. His form of rebellion over the ones who trapped him. In a way, he was having the last laugh.

Bakura, satisfied and proud, was content enough not to interrupt him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering my previous AN, it's ironic to say that the next prompt is Break lol.


	12. Prompt 12 - Break [Overworking]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik is overworking himself and Bakura is unhappy about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't like this one all that much initially, but it began to grow on me over time. The concept was good, I just wasn't too certain over the execution of it. I have a lot of Ideas about Marik's workflow and contribution to their partnership and how Bakura can be far too harsh on him without knowing it. I feel like I have way more to say about that than what I can here, but there's always another story to use to address it. 
> 
> This story also touches briefly on my headcanon for how Marik and Bakura are living alone together without Marik's siblings getting involved. I just always thought it was strange that they would let Marik, someone who was used to other's taking care of him and not doing anything himself, be alone to fend for himself. I thought there must be some sort of pact going on between them—which strengthens my belief that Marik has taught himself how to cook and clean and is more capable than you'd expect in doing so. He had to adapt to it to get what he wanted. 
> 
> Rating T, No Warnings Apply.

Marik didn’t think he was working too hard. Sure, he had been spending all day trying to get the Evil Council and his gang-related activities sorted out, planning out everything months in advance like he was want to do, but that didn’t mean he was overworking himself. So, it was late now and he couldn’t actually remember the last time he had gotten up to take care of his needs, that just meant he was very serious and diligent about being evil! There was nothing to worry about at all.

Unfortunately, Bakura didn’t see it that way. Marik watched as his laptop screen abruptly turned black and frowned at the pale finger pressed hard into the shutdown button. He looked up to witness Bakura’s grumpy expression.

“Shutting it down like that is bad for the computer, Bakura. The least you could do was warn me so I could save and shut down all the programs first!”

Bakura scowled further at him, looking very much like he wanted to grab the laptop from Marik’s lap and hurl it against the wall. Marik hoped he wouldn’t do that. This laptop held all his important documents of evil and also was good for entertainment like playing video games, streaming TV and movies, reading comics... and watching the gay porn he pretended not to be interested in.

“Enough!” Bakura demanded. He crossed his arms and glowered down at Marik. “Don’t you think you should take a break? I saw you on that computer at breakfast! It’s past midnight!”

“Well, to be fair, you had breakfast around ten-thirty...”

Bakura rolled his eyes.

“Oh, and I’m so certain you weren’t playing on that thing in the early morning when you usually wake up. Seven, ten-thirty, it doesn’t matter. Just think of your bloody health for a second and get off the sodding computer!”

Marik studied Bakura a moment, recognizing his tense and unhappy atmosphere for what it was—Bakura was obviously worried about him. The thought alone was enough for him to reconsider his plan to ignore Bakura and continue working. ‘Cause maybe he was overdoing it a little. Whatever he didn’t get done today could get done tomorrow.

He just didn’t want to look like he wasn’t trying. He knew how irritated and disappointed Bakura could get with him sometimes when his plans fell through or weren’t up to par with what Bakura wanted. He thought if he worked hard enough on it Bakura wouldn’t get mad at him later. Well, that hadn’t worked because now Bakura was getting mad at him earlier than usual. It was almost like Marik couldn’t win here.

“Sorry, Fluffy,” Marik said, hoping to pacify Bakura’s ire. “I’ll go to bed now, I promise.”

Bakura shook his head and placed his hand against Marik’s chest when Marik attempted to get up and walk around him. Marik paused and gave him an exasperated look.

“What now?”

“You haven’t eaten in awhile,” Bakura said slowly, brows pinching as he tried to word his intentions properly. “With that in mind, I took it as my duty to make you something. Don’t worry, I made sandwiches. Obviously, I know you shouldn’t have something too heavy after so long... but I’m also not entirely unaware of where I lack in the area of cooking as well.”

Marik was surprised as well as charmed. It was rare for Bakura to go out of his way like this. He let a wide smile spread across his tired face.

“Really? Thanks, Bakura! You’re such a good friend! Always there to look after me when I need it!”

Bakura seemed conflicted over those words, pursing his lips and flicking his eyes away. Then he shrugged.

“Whatever. Just don’t let this happen again. Otherwise, next time I’ll have to call your siblings and they won’t be as lenient as me.”

Marik gasped dramatically at this. There was a reason why he lived alone with only Bakura and not with any of his siblings—it was because he had promised them he was capable of doing everything himself. If they thought for a moment he was neglecting himself, they’d change their mind and he would be forced to live with one of them again. Which meant he couldn’t spend all his free time with just Bakura anymore. Marik really, really, _really_ didn’t want that to happen. Bakura knew that, of course, and was using it against him!

“No, no, I’ll be good! I’m on my way right now to eat those sandwiches and I’ll brush my teeth and clean myself and go to bed! You don’t need to be so hasty!”

Bakura was satisfied with this declaration and let him pass. Still, he asked after him, “What were you even doing all day anyway?”

“Um, oh, nothing really. Just... work. Business stuff. Not the type of stuff you would find interesting.”

“So... Evil Council? That useless gang of yours? Just evil plans?”

Marik nodded and watched Bakura’s expression grow stormy. Marik shifted uncertainly, wondering what that look meant.

“Uh, Bakura—?”

“...Don’t work too hard, idiot. Your brain can’t handle too much all at once. Let me help you next time.”

Marik nodded in agreement, mostly because he didn’t like how upset Bakura looked. He’d rather Bakura be smiling or laughing at him. Bakura had hurt too much and Marik didn’t want to be another reason for that. So, for Bakura’s sake, Marik would learn to pace himself better and not give Bakura a reason to worry. After all, he needed to live a long time so he could spend all of it with Bakura.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next prompt is Green... and is finally the fabled sex chapter. I knew I'd do it eventually, but I'm amazed how long I managed to hold on until we got to debauchery lol. See you next time! ^^


	13. Prompt 13 - Green [Beg to be a Winner]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bakura plays with himself by using a vibrator and teases Marik into begging for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was hard to edit. It bypassed the 1000 word limit by 100+ words... Oh, well. It's a tight fit and sometimes there's overflow (Haha). Nonetheless, I hope this is nice to read because I've stared at it for too long to tell. Enjoy! :)
> 
> Rating E, Underage.
> 
> Extra tags: vibrator, teasing, desperation, begging, riding, pet names, barebacking

Marik sat crossed-legged on the bed, hands clamped tightly on his bouncing knees. He licked his bottom lip and stared too intently at Bakura sprawled out in front of him and the not-so-secret actions the spirit was performing on himself for Marik’s eyes only. His ears picked up the slight buzzing sound, the quick breathing and moaning as the green vibrating object rubbed against places Bakura was clearly enjoying, and he wondered how much of this it was feasible for him to take. Surely, he’d been here for a long time now.

Wiggling in place, he cautioned to say, “Bakura? Fluffy, um, is it almost time...? Can I touch you? Or myself? Soon. Now. Whenever. You know, when you’re ready. I can... wait. Yep, totally. Me, sitting here, patient, waiting, forever. _Frigging hell._ ”

Bakura’s laughter was much deeper and breathier than normal, something unbelievably pleasant to an already overstimulated Marik. His knees drew closer to his chest in an obvious attempt to entice Marik further by showing himself off better. Oh Gods above, it was unfortunately working. Marik bit his lip hard and blinked dumbly several times.

“Oh, what’s this now? Are you seriously giving in so quickly? Didn’t you say earlier you were perfectly content to watch? That you and I quote, ‘could handle it’. Handling it is not begging, Marik. Far from it.”

Marik instantly bristled, embarrassment distracting him from the fact his penis very much wanted to replace the green nuisance that was residing comfortably in the space he knew it was stealing away from him. It was just a toy and yet Marik felt envious of its lot in life. A short life considering Marik had shortsightedly bought the damn thing for Bakura only just a week ago. One week old and it was already getting more action than him.

“I—I’m not _begging_. I’m just asking! I just—you’re not going to cum like that, are you? N-N-Not that that’s wrong or anything! You can do that... if you want... if it makes you happy.” Marik paused to take a huge breath, unexpectedly lurching forward on his hands with desperate, horny abandon. “But I will do _anything_ you want to you, baby, if you let me. Anything. Fluffy, Kitty, come on.”

Bakura startled. Some saliva was travelling down from the corner of his panting lips and Marik wanted nothing more than to lick it away. That stupid eyesore of a toy was out of him now, being clutched between Bakura’s hand and shaking out obnoxious noise. Bakura was flushed in all the right places and his engorged cock was calling out to be touched. Marik looked into Bakura’s heavy hooded eyes pleadingly and hoped he looked half as attractive as Bakura did. With his head the mess it was in right now, he couldn’t fathom the mere thought of it. After this torture, it sounded impossible.

“Wow,” Bakura said quietly. “I was only joking, but you're begging. That’s... interesting.”

Marik waited, thinking that he had gotten Bakura to give in. His relief was short-lived though when Bakura abruptly slid the vibrator back into himself, whined at the pressure of it and ignored Marik’s pleas completely. Marik could have cried. He wasn’t going to... but he could have and that was enough to make him try harder. He wouldn’t be surprised if Bakura liked hearing him beg so, well, there wasn’t any reason to be above grovelling at this point. What did he have to lose but his dignity and control?

Marik crawled closer to his boyfriend, careful not to get any funny ideas by touching Bakura early. He didn’t want to dissatisfy Bakura by cheating. That meant no touching himself either, even though he was certain death would be preferable. Although, since Bakura was dead already it was unlikely Marik would escape that way either.

“Hey, um, hi, I love you. So much. My Kitty.”

Bakura looked up at him, raising his hips and thrusting down on the toy. Marik was certain that it was burring much louder than before which meant Bakura had set it on a higher setting for maximum pleasure. If that thing got Bakura off quicker than Marik could he was going to pack his bags and move to Antarctica and away from the shame of losing to a glorified silicone quivering simulated dick.

Bakura huffed at Marik. His eyes narrowed in the beginnings of displeasure and Marik was quick to steamroll over it.

“Fluffy, you know I can be better than that thing. I’ve _been_ better than that thing! How many times have I satisfied you? Many, many, many, _oh Gods,_ so many!” Marik’s eyes were wide with memory and it honestly did take everything in him not to touch his frigging dick. Or orgasm on the spot. “I want to make you feel good so bad, honey. I promise I will. I-I, Bakura, I _need_ to. I need you to orgasm while on my dick. Or fingers. Or mouth. O-Or anything. Absolutely anything that is me. Please?”

Bakura’s expression broke easily into desire and he whimpered, thighs shaking and cock twitching. He was rocking insistently on the toy, but maybe it was just Marik getting his hopes up but he thought it wasn’t doing it for Bakura as much anymore. 

All Marik needed to say was one more thing. Something more embarrassing than promises to make his partner feel good.

“ _Bakura,_ ” Marik whined pathetically, nails digging into his thighs, “I want to cum too.”

Marik’s pride was murdered, but he didn’t have time to mourn it when his lover was suddenly pushing off the bed, pinning him to the mattress and slamming himself down on exactly where Marik wanted him most. Marik groaned gratefully at the bloom of delightful pleasure from his groin. Then he was mewling and clawing at Bakura’s waist because a needy kitty was an exuberant one and wasn’t about to give him respite or any time to breathe. Just _go go go_ hard and dirty until they were finished.

“Marik, MARIK, **MARIK!!!** ”

Marik would probably be screaming too if he had the voice for it. Ironically, the more into it he was the quieter he tended to become. All he could do was softly gasp and moan and murmur out his appreciation. Bakura sure knew how to _shag_ him into complete silence. Likewise, he was apparently good at making Bakura the loud one for once. 

Orgasm must have made him blackout. When he shook out of it, Bakura had gotten off of him and was now cuddling his side, apparently on his way to sleep. A spark of triumphant glory hit Marik then and he shot the green vibrator laying innocently on the blanket a nasty grin. The winner takes the riches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be very jarring after a chapter like this, but the next one isn't going to be sunshine and rainbows. I've tried to keep most of these consistently fluffy... but then I got the prompt Time and that went right out the window. Get ready for the angst train lol.


	14. Prompt 14 - Time [It's a Promise]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day before the final battle between the Pharaoh and Bakura, Marik and Bakura meet up one last time after years of distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing you need to know about this chapter is that I started crying when I was writing the last few paragraphs and I keep crying when I re-read it. And, yep, this one acknowledges their canon breakup...
> 
> Rating G, No Warnings Apply.

Bakura had no idea what compelled him to agree to this. He had ignored every single attempt Marik had previously made to reconnect, had even gone as far as to block Marik’s number on his phone. He hadn’t heard from Marik since.

Not till now. Not till the cusp of the most important moment of Bakura’s entire existence knocked on his front door. Only then did Marik bother one last time and bypassed the block.

Perhaps that was suitable. Bakura knew he wouldn’t have listened any other time. Except he had been certain he wouldn’t want to listen now either, but the moment he saw the text light upon his screen his resolve had crumbled within the time it took to reach for his phone.

It was just a date, time and place. No other Marik-esque nonsense attached to it. Bakura had sent back a solid 'no' so he was obviously coming. If Marik remembered Bakura well at all he would know that.

Time had come for them both, but while Bakura had been racing toward his destiny Marik had just aged. Finally approaching adulthood now that the show that was their life was coming to an end and allowing him that privilege. Bakura all of a sudden felt younger than Marik despite himself. After all, he had never gotten the chance to become an adult and he felt it strongly when their eyes met.

Marik’s breath hitched and he blinked several times at Bakura as though he couldn’t believe Bakura was there. Bakura only raised an eyebrow—whatever emotions he could feel over this were locked away tight in a place he wasn’t certain he knew how to reach anymore. If anything could be said it was that Marik looked good, healthy in both a physical and mental way, and certainly didn’t need to be attached to a broken spirit any longer.

“Bakura,” Marik breathed, a hand clutching a napkin in his fist as he looked up at Bakura standing over him. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you right now.”

Bakura sat down and crossed his arms, contemplating if it was in his best interest to speak. He didn’t know if he had anything he even wanted to say, but he was here so he might as well say something of value. He owed Marik that much.

“You’re meeting up with the Pharaoh tomorrow. To help him. Speaking to me is counterproductive to that plan, isn’t it?”

Marik scrunched his face up at that reminder and for that Bakura was happy. He didn’t want to admit that he’d been worried Marik had become someone he didn’t recognize anymore. Hating the Pharaoh together had been the first thing they had in common all those years ago.

“Ugh, luckily not. Ishizu will do most of the work for me. I’ll just sit by and wait for it to end.”

Bakura nodded, satisfied. It loosened his tongue.

“I’m happy to see you too. You’ve grown taller and filled out more. You lost the last of your baby fat too, it makes your face sharper.”

Marik swallowed and clicked his fingers against the table, elegant rings making a more prominent sound. He stared at Bakura for a moment, then swiftly glanced away.

“Thanks. Though, um, you know, I think you might have followed me. Or, well, Ryou did.”

That did make sense. Ryou was ageing too. Bakura hadn’t noticed, too preoccupied with the inevitable conclusion to his plans pushing on his shoulders. He didn’t think much about the body he possessed anymore—he was disengaging and slowly slipping away.

“Anyway,” Marik said. He pulled at the napkin he was holding, tearing it as he directed his gaze at the table. “I know you’re busy, that you have a big day tomorrow, that you probably don’t want my words. I know, I get it, I just... wanted to wish you good luck and congratulate you on finally getting here. You deserve to win, Bakura, and I want you to know I’m on your side even if it doesn’t look like it. I’ll be thinking of you... not that that’s any different than what I already do.”

The last part was said quieter and clearly not meant for Bakura’s ears. Something stirred within Bakura, a fleeting sense of longing he’d stamped down the day he walked out of Marik’s life. Marik thought about him still and Bakura would be lying if he said he didn’t do the same.

“No matter what happens tomorrow the Pharaoh will finally be gone. You should celebrate that instead of thinking about me. You and the Tomb Keepers will be free.”

“Yeah, I know, but—” Marik cut himself off and shook his head, eyes narrowing as he swept the pieces of paper left from the napkin to the side. “You matter to me just as much. You have to know that. I didn’t stop caring once you left. In fact, I think I started caring more?”

“Because you knew what it meant,” Bakura said. “What time it was. Why I needed to leave.”

Marik sighed sadly.

“Marik. If I win this battle you know we won’t meet again. Zorc will destroy the world. That means everyone including you and I will die. We were destined to be unhappy from the start. Even so—” Bakura hesitated, unsure if he was allowed to say this anymore— “I love you. In my last moments, I’ll think of you. I hope you’ll think of me too.”

Marik raised his head. There were tears in his eyes and his lips trembled. Instead of answering with words, he reached out to ask for Bakura’s hand and Bakura uncurled his arms, letting one of his hands make contact with Marik’s. Marik slid the fingers of his in between Bakura’s, then squeezed like it would forever be the last time. Bakura silently watched as Marik grinned at him in a lopsided fashion.

“It’s a promise,” Marik whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! The next one is Twice.


	15. Prompt 15 - Twice [Loser]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik and Bakura play duel monsters with each other when a wager unfolds between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, a story I wrote that actually acknowledges card games exist in this universe. Now, to never bring it up again XD. 
> 
> Rating T, No Warnings Apply.

“Haha, I win!” Marik cried, standing up in his excitement and throwing his hands up—in the process almost dropping the four duel monster’s cards left in his hand. “See, Bakura, I told you I was better at this stupid frigging game than you! Look, I annihilated you!”

Bakura crossed his arms, flicking his gaze from the mat they had been playing their game on and Marik’s victory dance. He raised one eyebrow, then huffed in annoyed exasperation.

“It’s only one win, idiot. How can that at all mean you’re better at the game than me? You’ve only tried once.” A challenging smirk surfaced and Bakura leaned back in his chair, fanning himself with the six cards still in his hand and turning his head away. “I bet you couldn’t do it twice.”

Marik scoffed, placing his hands on his hips and looking down at Bakura from his higher position. Bakura had lost spectacularly. Marik’s life points weren’t anywhere near zero—they were at 6200 out of 8000. Bakura’s had dropped quickly and the game had ended prematurely. Why did Bakura think he could beat Marik now after he had beaten Bakura so thoroughly?

“I could do it twice,” Marik said insistently. “In fact, I could do it a lot more than that. I made so many decks for all my Steves that I’m obviously the best at building up strategies and taking down my opponents! It’s okay if you can’t measure up, Fluffy. You don’t have to further embarrass yourself with a second game. We could play something more up to your standards.”

Bakura stared at him with furrowed eyebrows, clicking his tongue at Marik’s words. He started collecting his cards and for a moment Marik thought he was going to concede defeat and move on to a new game as Marik said, but this was Bakura and he didn’t give up easily. Marik wasn’t surprised when he spoke up again.

“Well, if you’re so confident in that, why don’t we make a little wager? That would make this game far more entertaining, don’t you think? Unless you’re too scared to compete against me, Marik.” 

“Of course not!” Marik said, pointing his finger at Bakura and smiling winningly. “You can throw whatever you want at me. I’ll take on any challenge!”

Bakura shuffled his deck, humming softly to himself and tilting his head back and forth.

“Okay. What do you want if you win? I’ll do anything.”

Marik was struck dumb. He faltered, his mouth suddenly feeling like cotton. What did he want from Bakura? Well... _anything_ seemed a bit excessive... but it wasn’t like he didn’t have any ideas. Still, he wasn’t about to voice them.

“Uh, you know what? Why don’t you choose! I don’t want to ask you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable, ahaha.”

Bakura rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Marik, the whole sodding point of this is to make me do something I don’t want to do. Don’t go easy on me. I want to have some further motivation to bloody win this.”

Marik sat down and shrugged.

“Then what do you want me to do? Not that it’ll matter since I’m obviously going to win, but some reference to help me choose would be nice.”

“I want you,” Bakura began, words coming out slower for effect, “to give me a kiss. Not that difficult of a request, is it? I’m sure you’ve kissed _hundreds_ of girls before so one boy shouldn’t be a problem for you. Or am I wrong?”

“N-No,” Marik stuttered, eyes wide and heart thumping hard in his chest, “but I’m not gay so it’ll be weird. Still, since you’re not going to win anyway... I guess it’s okay to ask for that. I agree to those terms.”

Bakura looked quite happy with Marik's decision, a genuine smile brightening his face. Frig, he didn’t have to be so beautiful when he did that.

“Excellent! Then in turn I will...?”

“Wear a sexy cat costume around the house for twenty-four hours.”

Bakura paused, then gave a quickly blushing Marik a scrutinizing look. His face scrunched once he was done and he shook his head with a sharp frown.

“Fine. Dress like a _sexy_ cat I will. Shall we begin then?”

Marik nodded, picking up his cards and shuffling his deck without further comment. He didn’t want either of them to ruminate on his request for too long. Setting down their decks, they started a new life points counter and each drew five cards. Marik decided to be generous two times in a row and let Bakura go second again so to give him one extra card for his first turn. It was the least he could do after Bakura’s unfortunate defeat.

Bakura smiled something small at Marik in response to the consideration and absently rearranged the cards in his hands.

“Go on. May the best duellist win.”

Marik was confident that would be him. By the end of the game, he had learned many things. One, don’t be cocky after only one win. Two, recognize Bakura’s inclination for mischief, mayhem and manipulation. And three, don’t make bets against a person who was playing the game with real monsters before you were born. All of this would result in a smashing defeat within ten turns. Although Marik could at least say he had gotten some good hits in before the end, it was now clear to him that Bakura had only lost so badly because he had been throwing the previous game and letting Marik win. It was a hard pill to swallow.

Bakura for his part didn’t gloat. All he did was look at Marik expectantly which made Marik embarrassed. He had promised to give Bakura a kiss though and it wasn’t like he could back down now. Marik didn’t want to look foolish or even worse cowardly. So, taking a deep breath, he leaned across the table and met Bakura halfway.

He didn’t mind the deception after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Touch happens to be the next prompt. Of course, I wrote a sexy story... about hand-holding. ;)


	16. Prompt 16 - Touch [In Public]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik holds Bakura's hand... in public.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The one thing that's been interesting about writing these one-shots is getting to explore smaller concepts that I've thought about, but aren't always capable of being utilized in bigger stories. Like, how would thiefshipping deal with homophobic pressures now that they're a couple and, more specifically, how does this affect Marik? Marik is the one that is most hurt by an outside view and struggles with accepting himself and his feelings when there are people who would throw vile at him for it. We know how Marik is like when in denial and how he doesn't deal with his feelings well, but how does he act when forced to face the problems head-on, no matter the consequences? Is it possible for him to succeed? I like to say yes. 
> 
> Rating G, No Warnings Apply.

Bakura startled when a hand encircled around his own. He glanced down in bewilderment as they kept walking, making sure that it was indeed Marik holding his hand in public. Of course, since nothing had changed from one moment to the next other than this bizarre turnaround, Marik was still walking beside him so Bakura wasn’t apparently going crazy and making stuff up again.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Marik had been suspiciously keeping his gaze away from Bakura’s direction and he grew prominently nervous when he was suddenly called on, his hand twitching and tightening more securely around Bakura’s subconsciously. He turned his head fully away before speaking, forcing Bakura to stare incredulously at his golden hair.

“Heh, what do you mean? I’m just being affectionate with you, Fluffy! Not... not anything different here...”

Except Marik was always more reserved about showing their relationship in public. Out here, they were just friends. Behind closed doors, they were a couple. Bakura couldn’t say he liked the back and forth whiplash this created for them, but it wasn’t like he didn’t understand Marik’s concerns and why it was happening. The world was a much harsher place than the comforts of their living room. Marik didn’t want to subject himself to any of it. 

This was why Bakura was so floored he was walking with Marik while their hands were so obviously touching, in an open street surrounded by enough people that they would definitely be seen. Bakura almost wanted to stop them and sit Marik down because there was surely something detrimental going on with his health.

Or maybe he was just growing, but that always seemed so unfathomable. Marik cared what people thought about him, crafting his image to fit whatever standards set by society. This change, whatever it was, didn’t make sense.

“Do you not like it?” Marik said anxiously, still talking to the air instead of Bakura. “I could... let go... if you want...”

Bakura growled at Marik, pulling his hand toward Bakura's chest possessively.

“Don’t you bloody dare!”

His words came out too strongly, loud enough to garner attention from outsiders who glanced at them curiously with varying degrees of contrasting expressions. Marik instantly tensed and stopped walking, whipping his head down and shoulders bunching up. Bakura cursed his tendency for acting too enthusiastic all the time and promptly let go of Marik’s now limp hand, angrier at himself than at Marik’s self-conscious behaviour. Bakura didn’t blame him for being scared.

“No,” Marik said, shaking his head quickly and finally looking at Bakura, brows pinched in stress but eyes shining in determination. “Come back. I... I don’t care. I want to do this. Let me.”

Bakura paused, uncertainty living inside him. He didn’t want to push Marik out of his comfort zone like this even if Marik thought he was ready for it. A lot of the eyes on them had turned away though, people minding their own business and keeping their opinions to themselves. The rest that was left wouldn’t matter once they walked away together.

Plus, Marik was hard to sway once he was convinced of a goal. His resolve was rock solid. Bakura didn’t desire to fight it, never mind the fact that he genuinely wanted Marik to continue holding his hand. He was too selfish not to want to take an opportunity like this if it presented itself. Bakura just hoped Marik knew what he was doing and it wouldn’t harm him later. This was a big step for someone usually so determined to hide from himself.

Bakura allowed Marik to take his hand again, watching closely as their fingers intertwined and made a nice contrast with their differing skin tones. Marik took a large breath and then straightened his back, squeezing Bakura's hand for comfort. Then he marched forward with his nose in the air and Bakura obediently followed, admiring Marik’s spirit and tenacity. This had to take a lot of courage for Marik to pull off and Bakura was certain he was doing it more for Bakura’s sake than his own.

Bakura’s love for Marik thrummed and happiness settled inside of him. He was already thinking of some ways he could reward Marik for this, ways that he was certain Marik would like and perhaps even motivate him to keep going with this whole touching in public thing. Bakura couldn’t wait to get started, but for now he would simply enjoy this perfect moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next one is a prompt I almost missed when writing. Ironically, it's Found. I guess you could say I found the found prompt lol.


	17. Prompt 17 - Found [Comic Books]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bakura catches Marik in a shop buying BL comic books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was definitely on a certain idea when I was writing these because this is another story commenting on Marik's struggles with his sexuality and image.
> 
> Rating T, No Warnings Apply.

“Found you.”

Bakura watched in amusement as Marik jumped and twirled around, panicked and anxious and fumbling with a paperback book in his hands. On the cover, two high school-aged boys were holding hands and looking away while blushing. It was a gay comic book, but a fairly innocuous and innocent one than the others on the shelf. Marik’s response was an overreaction at best and a sad display of what a cruel society did to a person at worst. No one would say anything if the cover was straight.

“B-Bakura?! What are you doing here? If I told you once I’ve told you a hundred times, stop popping out of nowhere like that! Being quiet and sneaky doesn’t make you any friends!”

“Says the guy who only has one friend and that’s me,” Bakura said, crossing his arms and studying Marik. “You said you were going out and I was bored so I decided to follow you. This is a measly selection for a Japanese store, by the way, I know of way better places for you to be shopping at. Would you like me to show you them?”

Marik’s eyes lit up noticeably before he stamped it down, promptly putting away the book and backing off from the shelf like it was going to give him the flu. He shook his head rapidly.

“No, no, of course not! I wasn’t going to buy anything like that at all! Why would I? Hehe, I’m not gay or anything, you know...”

“Tell that to the boxes of these same books you’ve got stacked in your closet and under your bed. Even so, what does being gay have to do with it? I read plenty of straight fiction. Does that make me straight or bi now?”

Marik opened his mouth, then closed it, clearly not having a good answer. He sighed and placed his hands on his hips, rolling his eyes skyward.

“Okay, but how did you follow me so well? I didn’t see you once the whole way! Plus, I was on my motorcycle. How did you keep up well enough to know where I was going?”

“The ring,” Bakura answered simply. “It was how I found you the first time. Don’t you remember?”

Marik’s face scrunched.

“That stupid frigging ring of yours. It followed my ‘gay energy’, did it? What the frig does that even mean?”

Bakura shrugged and stepped forward, curiously looking at the comic books and picking up the one Marik had been holding to flip through it. Marik made a whining sound in the back of his throat, anxiously glancing around them like he thought someone would point and laugh. If they did, Bakura would stab them so it wasn’t like Marik needed to worry.

“Oh, you’d like this,” Bakura told him, eyebrows raising. “A lot of pointless pining and denial of feelings and wacky misunderstandings. What does that sound like? You should get it.”

“No, I just said—”

“This one too.” Bakura picked up a second book that looked promising. “Star-crossed lovers, destined to be together even through turmoil. It’s got some vanilla porn in it too. Or what about this one? I think the main character is a Tsundere and treats the boyfriend like rubbish, but the plot seems promising and the sex is even raunchier. Or would you like this one? Cross-dressing? You have an interesting amount of those in your stash from what I’ve seen—” 

“Bakura, that’s enough! Stop teasing me and making me feel bad! Okay, I get it! I like to read these and, yeah, I was here to buy some more, but please can you pretend I wasn’t? I can’t handle another second of this...”

Bakura looked up at Marik, startled to realize he looked close to tears. It wasn’t Bakura’s intention to make Marik miserable, he had only been trying to help, but once again he was hindered by the fact that he didn’t understand Marik’s view. He didn’t get why Marik wanted to stay in the closet and unless he learned to he was going to continue to accidentally upset Marik. Bakura placed the books back down and stepped away from them, looking at Marik for directions on where to take this interaction next.

Marik took a deep breath and let it out, running a hand down his face. Then, to Bakura’s surprise, he picked up all the books Bakura had suggested to him and walked up to the counter, staring at the ground as he did so. When he had his bag and was standing beside Bakura again, he nodded toward the door and Bakura followed him out. When they got to his motorcycle, that was when he spoke again.

“It’s not nice to use your powers to stalk me, Fluffy. I deserve some privacy too, you know. Can you... can you promise not to do that again? Please?”

Marik looked him in the eyes, gaze pleading and desperate. Bakura gave in easily and nodded. He was glad to see Marik’s mood lighten when he did.

“Great! Since you’re here though, do you want to drive around for a bit? Maybe, uh, you can show me some of those stores that sell better, um, products. If you don’t mind.”

It wasn’t like Bakura was going to say no to that. Even if Marik’s motorcycle seemed like an accident waiting to happen, he would never miss an opportunity to spend an hour or two pressed up against Marik’s back, clinging on for dear life. Bakura agreed on the spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is the next one. This prompt is perfect for them! :)


	18. Prompt 18 - Song [Ultimatum]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik and Bakura go to a Japanese karaoke box, but Marik realizes Bakura has different motives than singing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for updating so slowly. I actually have quite a few of these written ahead of time, but I'm slow when it comes to editing and actually feeling like posting. I'll admit I've got a lot of stories on the backlog and to-do list, so these stories fall through the cracks for now. But, luckily, they're quick to edit! I hope you enjoy it! ^^
> 
> Rating T, No Warnings Apply.

When Bakura suggested they go to a karaoke box that night, Marik should have been at least a little suspicious. It wasn’t that Bakura didn’t like singing, that was quite the opposite actually, it was that he felt deeply embarrassed by it because he thought he was terrible. Marik personally didn’t think so, but no amount of convincing had ever worked, so that was why he should have been surprised that Bakura would be the first one to bring it up. Marik had to sometimes spend hours working Bakura up to a confidence level where he was willing to sing even when it was just the two of them. Box or no box, Bakura wouldn’t usually want to sing.

Marik had never been to a Japanese style karaoke box before and was far too excited at the concept to even consider the idea that Bakura had different motives than playing songs with him. It was an enclosed space with music blasting and soundproof walls and a constant flow of refreshments and food.

Yeah, it had a Bakura plan written all over it. At least Bakura was nice enough to let him sing a few rounds first before trying to seduce him. It was difficult to sing along with words on a screen while his boyfriend sat in his lap and mouthed his neck.

“Bakura,” Marik reasoned, knowing it was a failed endeavour before he even started. “Don’t you want to sing something too? If you’re nervous we could do a duet. I know you enjoy those.”

“Later,” Bakura said shortly, squeezing his body closer to Marik as if that would somehow convince him more.

“No, see, these boxes are for singing. You’re supposed to be... singing. Nnn, don’t bite like that, Fluffy, I’m not wearing anything that will hide it...”

Bakura licked at the wound he had just created and Marik groaned, tilting his head further away to give Bakura more room. He tightened his grip on the remote for the karaoke player in his hand and gritted his teeth in frustration, speeding through the selections at a pace he wouldn’t be able to read which didn’t matter much when he couldn’t read anyway with Bakura distracting him.

“If we were just going to fool around then why didn’t we just stay home? I paid for this! With real money I earned! Not the counterfeit stuff this time. This is just going to be a waste!”

Bakura pulled back finally and Marik was forced to see the pout crossing his lips, something Marik had long since learned he wasn’t good at ignoring.

“Spending time with me is a waste?”

“No! Of course not. I love you.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Marik sighed. He pushed Bakura off of him and moved to get up, heading toward the door.

“I’m going to ask for an extension. Wait here and don’t do anything that is going to get us in trouble, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Bakura’s only response was to smirk and casually lay back against the seating, looking up at Marik innocently like he wasn’t a demon harassing Marik senselessly.

When Marik got back, he had a game plan. Obviously, he still wanted to have fun with the karaoke, but he knew that doing so would be difficult when Bakura was so horny and uncooperative. Also, it wasn’t like he didn’t want to play with Bakura like that as well. So, creating an ultimatum where they could both be happy was the best option. Marik had the perfect idea to do so.

“I’ll make you feel good for as long as you’ve played the songs. So, say you sang enough music to fill thirty minutes. That means we'll do sexy stuff for that amount of time as well. Sound good?”

“Sounds devious.” Bakura cackled, reaching out for the microphone. “How evil. I guess I have no choice but to concede. Pick for me?”

Marik nodded, relieved. He was sure to go for songs he knew Bakura wouldn’t feel too nervous and lose steam while performing. He was half expecting Bakura to be too impatient to wait long enough and would stop after two or three songs, but as the two of them kept singing and it was concluded, Marik was overwhelmed by an hour-long spreadsheet. Marik realized Bakura had gotten him by continuously deciding to sing duets which made the time Bakura needed to wait shorter. Bakura had only performed one song on his own and Marik hadn’t done one on his own since this started. Frig, he was too soft and easily fooled by sweet words.

“Are you upset?” Bakura asked curiously, crawling closer to him. “Wasn’t it more fun singing with me than on your own? You like that too, you know.”

“No, not really.” Marik shook his head and smiled, accepting Bakura’s weight on to his lap. “It was fun. Just be more open with your intentions and I wouldn’t have to get so exasperated! Still, I don’t know why you want to have sex in here. How exciting will doing it in a place like this actually be?”

“Mm. Well, let’s find out, shall we?”

Bakura captured Marik’s lips and he eagerly kissed back. Okay, maybe singing all those love and lust songs together had put him in the mood. After the enjoyable time he had with Bakura singing, he was willing to indulge in some hanky-panky to their hearts' content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next prompt is Wait. Finally, I can talk about how impatient I believe Bakura to be lol.


	19. Prompt 19 - Wait [Always Impatient]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik tries to take Bakura out bowling, but Bakura's impatient nature complicates the deal a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day I'll convince everyone that Bakura is actually the overzealous, ridiculous, unreasonable one within this ship. This fic is just one more step toward that lol.
> 
> Anyway, I feel the beginning sentence of this fic definitely sets the tone, doesn't it? ;)
> 
> Rating G, No Warnings Apply.

Marik quickly grabbed Bakura’s wrist and pulled him back before he would have been promptly slammed by an oncoming car.

“Bakura?! What did I say? Wait! The crosswalk is not safe yet!”

“It’s taking too long,” Bakura complained, apparently not at all bothered that he had just almost been flattened. “Why do we have to stand like this forever? It’s bloody infuriating!”

“It only takes a minute or two. See?” Marik nodded toward the crosswalk which was now safe for pedestrians to walk through. He began walking forward, leading Bakura along with him. “Honestly, do you have to act like a child today? Is it so hard to be patient?”

Bakura huffed and pulled his wrist out of Marik's grip, stomping off ahead despite the fact that he didn’t know where they were going. Marik hurried after him, mildly worried that if he didn’t keep an eye on Bakura he would somehow get into more danger.

“Why are you going so slow? I don’t have all day, you know.”

“Shush, you. You never have anything better to do anyway,” Marik reminded Bakura as he caught up, grabbing Bakura’s arm to guide him in the opposite direction than where Bakura had been going.

Marik was only trying to take Bakura out bowling. It shouldn’t be too hard to walk there without getting touchy like this, but this was Bakura and this was him and sometimes it meant they were going to argue on the way there. Bakura was being difficult and Marik knew some ways to change that, but it was probably best just to keep going. Once Bakura was at their destination, he'd stop acting so grumpy and everything would smooth over anyway. Marik could manage this attitude fine until then. 

Bakura pulled away again with a scowl and an upturned nose and suddenly the corner store looked more appealing to Marik than before. Marik went over to it with Bakura in tow, searching the place for candy or chocolate or chips. If there was anything that knew how to put Bakura into a better mood quickly it was unhealthy snacks. 

“Why are we stopping? This is definitely not the reason you woke me up early and forced me out in the sun. Don’t waste my time, Marik!”

The lady at the counter gave him a sympathetic look as Bakura continued to berate him. Now, see, Marik thought Bakura was being unreasonable, but that didn’t mean he appreciated others treating Bakura like he was a nuisance. Bakura may be a bitch to him on the worst occasions, but by the Gods above he was still Marik’s one and only. He sneered at her and turned away, quickly smiling at Bakura and offering the selections, quietly making sure none of the products had gelatin since Ryou was allergic to that. The Marshmallow Incident was still prevalent in Marik’s mind and he didn't want a repeat of it. 

Bakura faltered, pursing his lips as though he was trying to find fault in Marik still, but he couldn’t deny himself the chance of sweets and other junk food. Bakura’s face softened and he briefly glanced at Marik before turning his face away, red forming across his exposed cheekbone and ear. Marik allowed a smirk and rubbed Bakura’s back, checking his surroundings before pressing a gentle kiss to Bakura’s warm cheek in forgiveness. Now that Bakura’s emotions were settled, he could see the day looking up. Marik eagerly set them on their course, purposely leaving before the cashier could realize he had given her less than what he was supposed to. Served her right.

“Are we there yet?” Bakura asked in a less volatile fashion moments later. “I wish you told me where we were going so I could tell you all the shortcuts and therefore we’d be bloody there already.”

Marik laughed out of disbelief. 

“I’m not climbing any frigging buildings because you think it’s quicker than using the crosswalk!”

“You should try it. It’s actually much faster. I checked.”

“Yeah, for you. For us average people we’d break a bone. Is that what you want? For me to get hurt.”

Bakura’s smile dropped and he didn’t suggest any further parkour or ask where they were going or when they would get there. Instead, he spent his time chewing on his snacks and following Marik around. Even better, he only huffed in mild derision when it was obvious that Marik had forgotten the directions of where the building was and they had to backtrack several times. When they did get to the empty parking lot of the establishment, Bakura saw fit to complain again.

“I knew where this was the whole time! You should have told me! Now that we’ve acted like morons getting here it’s given me an upset stomach!”

“Uh, that’s because you ate all your snacks at once which I told you not to do, remember? I don’t think idiocy gives you indigestion.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised. I get it a lot around you.”

“Don't blame me! You eat like a pig on its last meal."

“Why are we both bloody standing around here for? Come on, you’re taking up all my time!”

“Bakura, you’re practically frigging immortal! How can I possibly do that?”

Bakura ignored him and stepped around him, gripping his shoulders and pushing him forward. Marik allowed himself to be pushed, utterly flabbergasted over Bakura’s inability to be patient for even a second. He lived thousands of years and waiting for Marik to go inside a building was too much for him. This was anything but endearing and yet Marik had to bite down on a grin anyway. After all, Bakura only acted this human around him and he loved every second of it. The good, the bad and the ugly.

It turned out they were early and the place wasn’t open yet so they were going to have to wait some more. He got a good earful from Bakura then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This just in: Marik Ishtar and Florence Bakura are absolutely hopeless fools.
> 
> Oh, by the way, if you don't know the 'Bakura is allergic to gelatin' thing is canon. LK, when he used to have a Tumblr, answered some questions by fans and had Marik answer through voice recording. Here, Marik explained that Bakura was allergic to marshmallows (he purposely neglects to mention it's the gelatin within the marshmallows, of course, got to make Bakura look silly when he can, right?). I learned about this through YGOTAS Tvtropes page though, so I don't know if it can be found anymore, unfortunately. 
> 
> The Marshmallow Incident, on the other hand, is something I made up. It's an event where Bakura ate a whole bag of marshmallows in one sitting and surprised Marik by having an allergic reaction and needing to go to a doctor. It's pretty much my explanation for how Marik came to find out Bakura was allergic. Bakura is the type of person to know he has an allergy, but believe he can 'get over it' and eats the allergic thing anyway lol. 
> 
> Next prompt: Gift


	20. Prompt 20 - Gift [Forever Yours]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Marik and Bakura's one-year anniversary as a couple and Bakura is faced with the full brunt of his boyfriend's extravagant spending, embarrassing him in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's based on a headcanon I have for what Marik got Bakura for their first anniversary and it's great to finally get to write it! I've had this idea for a long time now lol. 
> 
> Rating T, No Archive Warnings Apply.

One year. It didn’t seem like a lot when he’d been alive for so long, not even all that impressive in comparison to how long he’d known Marik overall, but... one year. One whole year of blissful happiness as a couple. Even Bakura could understand how important a day that was even if he couldn’t remember what month or year he was living in half the time. It wasn’t surprising that Marik was making such a big deal about it, but it made Bakura feel like he couldn’t keep up with Marik’s enthusiasm and that he was a disappointment of a boyfriend because of it. He was doing it all incorrectly.

Bakura hadn’t even known he was supposed to bring a gift. How bloody embarrassing.

“Marik,” Bakura said, staring at the wrapped package with uncertainty and mild distrust. “What is this?”

“A present, silly. Are you going to open it?”

“But... I didn’t get you anything in return.”

“‘Course you did! You made me breakfast.”

“I _burnt_ breakfast and then we went out to a restaurant instead.”

“Well... you _chose_ the restaurant and it was one I liked, so you did get me something!”

“Marik, that doesn’t count!” Bakura snapped, genuinely beginning to grow upset. “Why did you do this to me? Now I look like a right cunt.”

“Can... Can you just open it, please? I put a lot of effort into this, months in the making, and I’ve been dying to see your reaction. You’ll look worse if you don’t accept the gift, you know.”

Bakura growled but conceded, ignoring the guilt eating at his insides. He tore at the wrapping, finding a plain white box on the other side. Carelessly taking the top off, he saw the familiar shape of what he knew to be a dagger clothed in a leather binding to carry it in. He sighed, lips twitching up despite himself.

“I thought you said I have too many of these. Why give me another one?”

Marik’s expression held a nervous expectation and intensity. He shook his head.

“Uh, look inside for me? This is a... special knife. One of a kind. You won’t be able to find it anywhere else, Fluffy.”

Bakura frowned, confused. He unbuttoned the leather and slipped the dagger out, mouth popping open in shock when he saw the handle was jewel-encrusted. He studied the different coloured gems, quickly recognizing that they were all real and tallying up how expensive this gift would have to be. It was mind-boggling the longer he tried to comprehend it. Why would Marik _do_ this?

“So... what do you think?”

“You... you... you _moron._ What utterly ridiculous lunatic buys such an expensive gift for their boyfriend of ONE year? This had to have cost you more than 100 000 dollars!”

“It’s custom made,” Marik said, smiling lopsidedly. “So it cost... a lot more, let’s say. Especially since I also got the blade engraved. Read it, okay?”

Bakura shot Marik a hostile glare, humiliated over a gift he couldn’t even hope to compete with. His fury fizzled out though when his eyes scanned the words, suddenly choking up instead.

_To the man I’ll love in life and death_

_Yours forever, Marik_

Bakura shook, flabbergasted at Marik’s willingness to put all of his future into Bakura, to have such confidence that he’d love Bakura for an eternity. Marik didn’t know how long that was, what he was actually promising Bakura. Yet a gift like this said more than what Bakura could argue against.

“...I love you,” is all Bakura could think to say, tears building in his eyes. “Truly, I do. Even if you’re an arse who doesn’t bloody think. How am I supposed to measure up to this?”

“Easy. You don’t have to. You just being here is enough, don’t you think?”

“The day isn’t over yet. Maybe I can try to break even. What do you want, my dear? Anything at all I can accomplish in a short amount of time?”

Marik smiled wider and reached out to wipe away the tears gathering in Bakura’s eyes.

“You don’t need to worry so much. Just because I did something like this, doesn’t mean anything you’ll do will suddenly mean less. So... why don’t you try making my favourite meal for supper? For some suspicious reason, that’s the only meal you seem to know how to make correctly. Huh.”

Bakura’s mind spun as ideas began to form. It was true that he could never do something as thoughtful and as wallet bleeding as Marik, but that meant he had to be more creative. He smirked when he thought about the other stuff he could give Marik—it was still early and Bakura was feeling especially dirty tonight. Plus, if he got lucky with the Koshari than perhaps he could try his hand at a dessert. Sure, he had almost caused a kitchen fire this morning, but as long as Marik was around to prevent that it was unlikely. He could still salvage this.

He kissed Marik and then hugged him, whispering in his ear.

“Don’t get it wrong, I love the dagger and I’m happy you had it made for me, but... I think it means too much for me to ever use it. I’d like it to last as long as it says our love will. For infinity. Thank you.”

Marik choked on emotion and squeezed Bakura closer, nuzzling his nose into Bakura’s flowing hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next prompt is Glass, I personal favourite of mine! ^^


	21. Prompt 21 - Glass [Punish Yourself]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik unexpectedly punches a mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, Melvin hasn't shown up in any of these yet, has he? Interesting... 
> 
> Rating T, No Warnings Apply.

Bakura was sat on his bed, reading a book he had gotten from the library. It was one of the only past times he had that could be considered healthy and, well, sane and uncomplicated. Marik would sometimes offhandedly comment that it was good seeing him quietly reading because it meant he wasn’t off committing a crime or plotting something nefarious. Apparently, his brand of evil could at times make Marik nervous—not because he was scared or disgusted by it, but because he was worried Bakura would get in trouble for it. At least with him in his room reading it meant Marik didn’t have to keep tabs on him.

When he was alone like this, Bakura could speed through any book and lose himself to the plot, no matter how dumb or ridiculous it was. The characters could be one dimensional, samey, predictable, it didn’t matter to him. A good story for him was more the experience than originality. He supposed it helped soften a bad book if he could project his own feelings about Marik on to the romantic schlock the protagonists went through—part of the reason it was hard for him to focus on a book around Marik was that he did that a bit too religiously. He’d be more embarrassed by it if it had ever been clear to him that Marik knew that fact which he seemingly didn’t.

Anyway, because he was used to blocking out everything else around him, he was unaware of the goings-on outside his bedroom. He only became aware when a loud sound of breaking glass followed by a pained shout from Marik was heard. Bakura snapped his head up, eyes widening in horror and surprise, and was carelessly discarding the book and running out of his room to find Marik, hopefully unharmed.

Marik was standing in the bathroom, head lowered and shoulders shaking. Shards of glass were all around him and a quick look showed the culprit—the bathroom mirror had been broken by what was obviously brute force. Bakura’s heart sank when he realized the only reason that could have happened and was forced to recognize the steady red drip of blood falling from Marik’s right fist. It didn’t look like an accident.

“W-What? Marik...?” Bakura said, trying to find the power in his voice but it trailed off from uncertainty and worry. “Why did you...?”

Marik startled, making to turn to him but stopping the pivot before it could be fully done. He curled further into himself.

“Not me,” he said quietly, looking around the mess on the floor instead of his friend. “Not consciously anyway. More like... I think I was being punished? I don’t know. I can’t understand my own actions...”

“Melvin?” Bakura asked, then scowled. “Why didn’t he come to say hello? He always loves to play with me when he visits. Punishing you doesn’t make any sense!”

“Oh, I get it. That’s why I did it. Thanks for explaining.”

“Explaining what?”

Marik tilted his head back and smiled lopsidedly.

“Don’t worry about it, Fluffy. I’m fine. I can handle myself, thanks. Go back to reading your stories, okay?”

Bakura huffed at being dismissed and in such a way that implied him a child. His friend was hurt and had an episode—he wasn’t going to just leave!

“No. Let me see your hand. Did you break it?”

“Uh, I don’t think so.” Marik raised it to his eye level and flexed it, wincing and licking his lips. “It hurts, but I can still move it, so...?”

“Bastard,” Bakura spat, cursing Melvin out while knowing, in a way, he was also cursing Marik out. “The next time I see him I’m going to give him a piece of my mind!”

He grabbed Marik’s hand, checking it for injury. It seemed fine but Bakura was already thinking of calling in a doctor. Marik had hundreds of Steves qualified to look at this and give a better assessment.

“Don’t move,” he told Marik when it looked like he was contemplating it. “Not until I get a broom and dustbin and clean up all this sodding glass!”

“Bakura, I can do it—”

Marik cut himself off when Bakura glared at him. He kept quiet as Bakura swept and emptied the glass chunks into the can. Eventually, he sighed and lamented his situation.

“I can’t believe I went and broke a mirror! That’s seven years of bad luck! How am I going to survive that?”

“It’s just a superstition people made up to scare others. It’s not real, idiot.”

“But what if it is? Melvin got me good with this one!”

“Not really. Since he’s you and you’re him, he’d also deal with the repercussions, wouldn’t he? It’s like shooting through your own leg to shoot someone else’s. Not particularly clever, is it?”

“Hm. Wait. You’re right! What a foolish fool! I’d never do something like that!”

Marik cackled uproariously. Bakura watched him with raised eyebrows, wondering once again at Marik’s self-awareness and if it existed or not. He emptied the last of the glass into the dustbin as Marik moved to wash the blood off his hand, revealing a mirage of purple, green and yellow bruising, coupled with some heavy swelling.

“Ouch, that really does look terrible, but it’s not too bad! It should get better in a week or two. Unfortunately, that means I’ll have trouble doing what I’d usually do. Hey, Bakura, can you help by giving me a hand when I need it? Please?”

“Depends.” Bakura appeared beside Marik, grinning with obvious intent and lowering his eyelids flirtatiously. “What do you need the extra hand for?”

Marik paused, his brain slowly registering the sex joke. There were two responses Marik would usually make, either he’d ignore it or honestly not understand what was being said. Bakura liked to push anyways.

“Eating?” Marik hedged. “I’m right-handed. There’s a lot of stuff I do with that hand that I wouldn’t be able to as well with my left.”

“I’m ambidextrous.”

“Well, that’s great, Bakura, but that’s not going to help me!”

“It would if you understood what I was saying.”

“Dammit, are you going to help me or not?”

Looking at Marik’s pouting lips, Bakura nodded. Marik relaxed and stepped away from the sink, drying off his hands. He didn’t look at Bakura as he spoke.

“Though, you know, I’m not stupid. I knew what you were implying.”

“Did you? Then what was it?”

“...Not telling.”

Typical. Bakura let it go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's another colour one next—silver.


	22. Prompt 22 - Silver [Motorcycle Blues]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For some strange reason, Marik's motorcycle isn't working. Bakura might be the cause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abridged Marik's love for his motorcycle isn't talked about enough! Also, the fact that he probably named her Death just as Canon Marik did will make me laugh forever. In all honesty, Marik is just an edgy boy lol. 
> 
> Rating T, No Warnings Apply.

Marik’s silver and red motorcycle was his pride and joy. He tried to keep her in as pristine condition as possible, getting frequent check-ups and updating her parts when it was needed. He washed her monthly and didn’t drive her on bad terrain. Some would say he spent too much time fine-tuning her and protecting her from harm, especially for someone who had the money to burn through a hundred more new motorcycles if he wanted to, but for that he would say this one in particular was special. Odion had gifted her to him, not to mention she was the first one he had ever gotten. He wasn’t going to treat her with anything less than the utmost respect.

Which is why he was stuck trying to figure out why she had stopped working. For all he could tell, she was completely fine, she had run well yesterday but now she refused to start. Marik eyed her critically, a dark stain of oil on his cheek and a wrench in his clenched hand. He wasn’t exactly well versed in engine repair, but he had read enough books about what made up a motorcycle for him to think he could pull this off without help, he just needed some clue on where to look.

“Come on, girl, tell me where it hurts,” Marik muttered, squinting and leaning further over the machine in a vague hope that if he looked at a certain angle all his problems would magically come to light. “I’m starting to think Bakura did something to you. Did he come around here at some point, do you think?”

Death didn’t answer, of course, for she had no mouth to speak from—nor an engine that was working. Marik sighed, hands on his hips and gaze up at the roof of the garage. He was starting to run out of ideas... which didn’t say much since he hadn’t had many ideas to begin with.

“I’m back.”

Marik jumped and internally cursed. He had no idea why after all these years he was still surprised when Bakura appeared out of thin air right behind him—Bakura loved to be quiet and startle the people around him. It was like a game to him. Marik should learn to not play along quite so well.

He turned around to reprimand Bakura... and quickly realized he had a bigger problem or two on his hands. It wasn’t a good day when his motorcycle wouldn’t run and Bakura apparently decided to play stab the bystander one too many times. Marik swallowed and shifted, wondering if it was worth asking his boyfriend why he had red splotches staining his skin and clothes. The answer was obvious, wasn’t it?

So, he asked the other pressing question, “Where did you get such a fancy purse?”

Bakura smirked, eyes shining with satisfied blood-lust and mania. He held the bag up like it was a prize he had won at a prestigious show.

“Some nice lady was kind enough to be deceased and not need it anymore. It’s a nice colour, right?”

It was as red as the blood on Bakura’s cheek—a mark that unintentionally mirrored Marik’s oil one. Red was Bakura’s favourite colour for obvious reasons so he could somewhat understand Bakura’s desire to kill someone for it. That didn’t change the fact that Bakura could easily have knocked her out or threatened her. Bakura would always choose the most extreme option because it pleased him more.

“Did you do something to my motorcycle?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you did—wait, what? You did? Why the frig would you do that, babe?”

“I thought it was funny.” Bakura rummaged in the purse and pulled out a small bottle. “Would you like a Tic Tac for your troubles? It’s barely been touched.”

“No, I don’t want a frigging Tic Tac! I want my motorcycle to start working again!” Marik paused and then pressed a hand to his mouth, brows twitching worriedly. “Hey... my breath doesn’t smell, right?”

“I’m covered in someone's old, crusty blood. Why would I care if it smelled or not? I just thought you’d want a Tic Tac, that’s all. Anyway, it’s not working because I replaced the gas in your tank with water.”

“YOU WHAT?” Marik reeled back in horror. “Do you have any idea how much damage that could cause? It could ruin the entire engine! I need to get it out of there before it rusts. How long has it been in there?”

Marik moved to unscrew the tank and empty all the water out of it. He nervously watched and gritted his teeth, telling himself that he was too in love to blow up at Bakura over this. It was just a prank that Bakura obviously didn’t know how severe it was. Bakura wouldn’t break his things on purpose. Usually. 

“Since I left... so, five hours ago?”

“Okay, that’s okay, just, um, we’ll dry it out and see what we get after. No reason to panic. It hasn't even been that long!” 

“What happens if the water got in other parts of the motorcycle? Will that be bad?”

Marik swallowed and giggled a bit. It was nice to remind himself that he had a lot of money to pour into fixing Death if he needed to.

“I’m not upset,” he replied. “I’m not.”

Bakura’s shoulders fell and his face pinched. He didn’t look nearly as happy as he had when he came in. Bakura wasn’t good with words, but Marik accepted the side hug, a cool nose pressing into his neck. He began to relax and grow a little hopeful. It wasn’t like he had revved the engine too many times and it wasn’t that many hours. She would probably be fine.

“I’m sorry,” Bakura murmured. “Be upset with me. We've talked about acknowledging feelings when we feel them instead of pushing them off for _someone_ else to feel them, haven’t we?”

“Ah.” Marik nodded and shifted slightly. “Right. Then I guess I’ll admit I’m furious at you. And also how mad I am at you for looking sexy covered in blood. That’s disgusting. Stop confusing my brain!”

Bakura hummed and hugged Marik closer as an answer. Marik hugged him back and kissed the top of his head.

“But... I forgive you. Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“Okay. Next time I’ll just replace your shampoo with hair dye.”

“ _Bakura._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next prompt is Bottle.


	23. Prompt 23 - Bottle [Drink Your Heart Out]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik and Bakura drink in a limousine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's just my attempts at rationalizing my increasing bewilderment over LK's decision to make Marik an alcoholic SPECIFICALLY during cons. Like, he never drinks in any other situation, it's just during cons he gets wasted. I'll never understand why Marik does this? I think he has in his head how a modern teenager should act at parties and proceeds to follow through with it but I don't know. Though I'll admit part of my confusion lends itself to the fact I actually headcanon Marik as a heavyweight, so from my perspective he has to try hard to get to that point and so I'm left baffled by his dedication. Don't underestimate Marik Ishtar, I guess. 
> 
> Rating T, No Warnings Apply.

Bakura, cheek resting in his palm, watches in dull amusement as Marik gulps down mediocre beer. They’re sitting inside a limousine and a Steve is driving them around town. Marik is only just drunk now, but the bottles littering the floor between them show how long it has taken to get there. Bakura meets Marik’s dazed eyes and raises his eyebrows.

“Happy now? Are you ready to conquer the world fit to burst with cheap beer?”

“W-What?” Marik asks, squinting at him in incomprehension. Marik doesn’t understand his accent as much when inebriated. “N-No, that wasn’t... I can’t remember. What was I gonna do?”

“You were going to have sex with me,” Bakura says, completely serious in both tone and expression despite the lie, “but then you decided to be a moron and got drunk. Now you’d sooner pee on me than find the proper space to put your erection in.”

Marik opens his mouth and tilts his head far to the right, regarding Bakura with exaggerated confusion. It’s adorable in nature but Bakura rathers he stop and explain why he needs to get intoxicated whenever a con is going on. Why is he so determined to fail Bakura every chance he gets? It’s like looking at a plane crash and burn to a crisp, unable to do a single thing but watch.

“I know where to put it,” Marik mumbles, eyelashes fluttering as he teeters slightly in his seat. “I just don’t want to yet. Wait. Wait. You got to wait. Okay, Fluffy?”

Bakura frowns at the cryptic phrasing. He doesn’t think Marik understands how long Bakura has been waiting for, not just for Marik to give in to his advances, but just in general. Waiting for anything only makes an immortal anxious and annoyed. Instead of deigning that hopeless response with an answer of his own, Bakura changes the conversation back to Marik’s drinking habits.

“Where are you keeping all of that anyway? It’s been hours. You must have a bladder of steel. Unless you’ve gone into your trousers and I haven’t noticed yet."

Bakura makes a show of looking down at Marik’s crotch—what a lovely sight it is—and sniffing the air. Marik looks more insulted than he’s ever been before.

  
  
“I would never— _never_ do that. I would sooner die!” He pauses, then frowns, leaning over to tap his Rod against the window separating them and the Steve. “Hey! Take me to a restroom. Now that Bakura’s mentioned it, I should probably go there before I regret it. It’s only a matter of time.”

Bakura snickers and Marik’s eyes turn back to him, lips twitching in humour but not laughing. Marik is more thoughtless like this, more forgiving, so Bakura despite his misgivings about Marik’s condition scoots closer and leans against Marik’s side. He reaches down in the cooler on the floor of the limo and cracks open one of the bottles, deciding to have one too to soften his demeanour. He’s hesitant to drink like this around Marik most days—unlike this intoxicated partner of his Bakura’s borrowed body is frail and quick to get smashed if he bothers to fill it with booze. Right now he thinks that’s fine. It’s not like anything will happen and Marik doesn’t ever make fun of him for this weakness anyway.

He hums pleasantly against the rim of the bottle at Marik’s unbelievable swiftness to cuddle him closer. This Marik hasn’t the ability to pretend to be anything else but gay and yearning for companionship. He looks up as Marik settles against the seating, half-lidded eyes staring up at the stars above through the sunroof and expression content yet pensive. Bakura wonders what he might be thinking about but doesn’t dare to ask him. Even a Marik with bottles of beer in him somehow manages to deflect and distract and never give a clear answer. He’s as much of an enigma as ever—perhaps Bakura will never understand him and they’ll just forever stay like this, so close and yet so far apart, never to breach the gap between their hearts and bodies.

Bakura almost bursts out in delirious laughter as that sets in. What a hopeless pair of homosexuals they’ve become. He downs the beer way too quickly and presses his face into Marik’s neck, purring like a cat for Marik’s entertainment because his face is warm, his heart is open and Marik’s mere presence makes him do strange things. Marik’s hand sloppily curls in Bakura’s hair, he says something quietly under his breath and Bakura doesn’t hear him. Whatever it was it seems to embarrass him because he clears his throat immediately afterwards and launches into a rant about a plan to destroy the Pharaoh he’s clearly making up on the spot.

Bakura closes his eyes with a smile and listens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Night will be the next one!


	24. Prompt 24 - Night [4:25 AM]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik's insomnia acts ups.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figuring out sleeping habits for characters is surprisingly fun! Especially when said characters live to be as opposite as possible like Marik and Bakura. :)
> 
> Rating G, No Warnings Apply.

Marik groaned and rubbed at his tired eyes, head pounding from being awake for so long. It seemed it was going to be another restless night for him where he only got the bare minimum of sleep—or none at all if the 4:25 flashing on his analogue clock foretold his future correctly. For whatever reason, there were some nights where his mind wouldn’t shut up no matter how much he wished it and he was left staring up at the ceiling, wondering how he was going to function properly the next morning. Marik was in all accounts an early riser too, so even on nights where he couldn’t sleep he rose with the sun... until everything would catch up with him and he’d collapse somewhere from exhaustion, relieved to finally find peace.

In a lot of ways, Marik yearned to be like Bakura. Marik was certain Bakura could fall asleep to the sound of jackhammers or a concert playing outside his door—he never had any problems getting rest to the point of unexpected absurdity. It was the exact opposite for Bakura, he fell asleep too easily. Marik lost count of the number of times he’d been having a conversation with Bakura only to find the spirit out cold halfway through them talking. He swore he’d even caught Bakura fast asleep standing up. Perhaps it had something to do with being trapped in an item for so long or possessing a body for a continuous amount of time, but Bakura’s sleeping habits were a deep contrast to Marik’s uncomfortable fits. Marik couldn’t help but be jealous of him.

Especially now that they shared a bed together. Marik had always known their sleeping schedules were different, but it was almost too depressing for Marik to be unable to find relaxation while his boyfriend dreamed on undisturbed. At least there were positives to having this be rubbed into his face every night, Bakura moved a lot while asleep and would eventually make his way to Marik’s side of the bed, settling his body weight on top of the ex-tomb keeper. Marik enjoyed the comforting presence of Bakura so close and it certainly gave him something to focus on while his brain worked overtime for the stupidest reasons. The addition of Bakura was nice even if it brought along some substantial grievances as well, Marik preferred it to the total irritating silence he was used to.

Then, of course, when he did sleep there was always the chance he’d have a nightmare, something that had been common in his youth even before the initiation. The fear of going through something so traumatizing and taxing had always put horrible images in his head. He would wake up in a cold sweat and, in some embarrassing instances he didn’t like to dwell on, would wet the bed. Even those brought about by his imagination wouldn’t be anything like the one’s he would get after the initiation once he had actually experienced the truth of it. Those were much worse because the images were real, the emotions experienced were exactly the same as that day, and it made it much harder for Marik to shake them off once they came around, meaning there would be some nights within his youth where he’d simply decide not to sleep. It was because of these nightmares that Marik had begun to fear and resent the dark and would later be solidified when he’d started to hear and see things whenever darkness fell over him. Being awake, being surrounded by lights... it was better than the alternative.

When he was a child he would sneak in either his brother’s or sister’s bed and sleep with them, curling himself into a ball and burying himself in their snug and calming embrace. These days he saw himself as too old and mature to be doing that and had taught himself to deal with his sleeping problems on his own. It had been surprisingly easier to do that though—as what could only be a miracle the nightmares had subsided over the years to only happening every once in awhile, making Marik fear sleep less now that he was guaranteed that reprieve. He wasn’t so stupid as to not notice the cause of it or to not understand the significance of their postponed appearance. Bakura—wonderful, bullheaded, consistent—had practically cured him of them when they started living together. Something about Bakura always calmed him, put things into perspective, made everything less hard on him. It had rearranged something vital in Marik, changed him for the better when they were together.

So Marik couldn’t be truly upset or angry at Bakura for being able to sleep when he couldn’t. He was far too thankful and appreciative of Bakura’s ability to put him at ease even when his boyfriend wasn’t even trying to. That was something special. Even being stuck in his head late at night like this was more bearable with Bakura at his side. There was no denying the effectiveness of Bakura’s brand of comfort.

Marik gave a heavy sigh and closed his eyes, arms wrapped around Bakura’s lithe frame and squeezing slightly. Even with his mind still racing, he held some hope that he’d get some sleep soon. If not, well, at least he still had Bakura.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gold for the next prompt!


	25. Prompt 25 - Gold [Status Symbol]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bakura admires Marik's jewelry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marik's jewellery is one of the most invisible things in thiefshipping fics including my own. I literally forget he wears it every single time and it's bothersome. So, why not write a fic entirely about it to make up for this transgression? ;)
> 
> Rating T, No Warnings Apply.

Bakura’s curious fingers trailed over the fine gold of the armlet wrapped around Marik’s bicep, the jewellery tight and secure against the muscles in a pleasing way. He hummed in agreement, tapping his nails against the hard surface meticulously. Marik shot him a disgruntled look and squirmed away, heaving a sigh of exasperation and rolling his eyes skyward.

“Bakura! I’m trying to do my makeup and your excessive clingy behaviour is distracting me! Stop frigging touching me and playing with my armlet, jeez!”

Bakura smirked and dropped his hand, playing the part of obedient boyfriend long enough for Marik to stop paying him any mind. Then he reached out and touched the gold band around Marik’s left wrist, twisting it and most likely chaffing the skin in the process. Marik paused in applying his eyeliner and scrunched his face up instead. He shook his arm out, getting rid of Bakura’s grasp, and sidestepped away from Bakura, making him almost be out of the bathroom mirror’s sight. This seemed to bother Marik even more and he scoffed in irritation.

“At this rate, I’ll never finish and we’ll be late for our reservation! Is that what you want? For us to lose our spot? Dammit, it took me forever to get it too! Frigging ungrateful little...”

Marik continued to grumble, focusing back on his makeup with an uncommon scowl marring his features. Bakura snickered, always enjoying messing with Marik when he could. He didn’t actually care that much about what restaurant they went to as long as the meat there was good—which Marik assured him to be the case—and so threatening him with the chances of not going didn’t faze him in the slightest. 

Still, there was actually a legitimate reason for why he was attempting to dig his cool fingers under the gold around Marik’s neck. He was fascinated by Marik’s abundance of jewellery and how they made Marik look the part of a king—he liked what they signified even if most of the time he wasn’t fully certain what that was for Marik. Marik didn’t wear them all the time, only the gold earrings were a constant presence, worn around the home even and not coming off unless for bed. It made Bakura more interested when Marik chose to go with all of the shiny gold on an outing—it usually signified something important, in this case a date.

“Oh my Gods, Bakura, that’s enough!” Marik snapped, turning toward him and pushing at his shoulders, eyebrows twitching erratically. “Just leave, go over there, away from me! I’ll be done in a moment and then we’ll go to eat! You’re hungry, right? That’s why you’re being a nuisance. Learn to be patient, I’m practically frigging begging here, honey!”

Marik’s earrings swung as his head moved with his fervour. Bakura couldn’t help himself and flicked at one, earning a further narrowing of lavender eyes and a lovely little growl. Bakura shivered at the darker attention.

“Stop,” Marik said, pointing a finger at his face. “Stop it or I’ll make you... _and not in the way you want me to!_ ”

Bakura pouted but nodded. Marik accepted that response and pulled away, sighing and fidgeting uncomfortably.

“Don’t give me that look, Fluffy, we’ve got places to be today! I can’t give you everything you want, I’ll spoil you that way.”

Bakura didn’t see the problem in being spoiled. It was _very good_ for him when Marik did that. Bakura wanted to complain but held his tongue.

Instead, he said, “Why do you wear all of that garish shite anyway?”

“It’s fun!” Marik replied, shoulders relaxing now that Bakura wasn’t going to pull on him anymore and distract him from finishing getting ready. “Wearing stuff like this was what people in high positions wore, right? So it only makes sense my beautiful self would be privileged enough to wear gold!”

“Hmm. Your sister wears that stuff too...”

“Well, yeah.” Marik shrugged, gaze at the mirror and his careful work. “She was almost equal to me in rank back when we were tomb keepers, so...”

“So it is a status symbol for your family. I thought so. That explains why Odion doesn’t do the same then.”

“Right.” A strange expression twisted Marik’s visage. “Except he’s my brother so if he wanted to then I would allow him to wear gold as much as he wants! He has those earrings, doesn't he?”

“Speaking of earrings, what are the significance of the one’s you wear? Just like those markings under your eyes only at bedtime do you not wear them. I never got around to asking you about that.” 

Marik hesitated, taking his time putting away his makeup instead of answering. His expression was pensive and slightly pained. Bakura wondered if he had brought up the wrong topic, but Marik’s quiet voice eventually came back.

“My dad used to wear them,” he started slowly, “constantly, actually. When he, um, died and we were going to preserve his corps I... I took them off of him. I don’t know why, it’s not like I liked them that much or I was especially close to my dad or anything. Something about them convinced me I should have them. I like to think I wanted something of my dad’s to remember him by, but, uh... Melvin likes to say I just wanted a trophy for my dad’s defeat at my hands. He might be right.” 

Marik pursed his lips, eyes flicking back and forth as he thought. Bakura hadn’t expected it to mean that much to Marik and now was wishing he hadn’t said anything. He wasn’t good with more sensitive and emotional conversations. That was Marik’s forte.

“Well,” Bakura said, clearing his throat and looping his arm with Marik’s, gaining his attention again, “I think you look great in them, so it was still a good decision to take them. It wasn’t like he would need them in the afterlife so don’t worry about it, idiot.”

Marik opened his mouth, looking like he was going to disagree, but then his eyes widened and he quickly pulled out his phone, anxiety shooting through.

“No, no, no! We’re going to be tardy! Come on, Bakura!”

Marik pulled Bakura along and he easily followed without complaint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is Need and, yes, I did write sex, how did you know? XD


	26. Prompt 26 - Need [Intervention]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik was acting strange at the Evil Council meeting, but luckily Bakura can remedy it just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I have a thing for them having sex in the Evil Council building—it's a good unique setting to place them in! I already have another fic down the line set there lol. 
> 
> Underage, Explicit, there be a blowjob in this one.

Bakura was perplexed. At today’s Evil Council meeting Marik had been acting strange, snapping at everyone and degrading them for the slightest misdemeanour. It had caused a tense atmosphere for the small group and in a rare case everyone had long since decided to just... leave. Making Bakura the only one left at the meeting—though he probably would have been gone too if Marik had attempted to pull any of that behaviour on him. Instead, he had either pretended Bakura didn’t exist or would stare at him for a little too long. Now that it was just the two of them, Marik didn’t seem to know where to look, anxiously glancing around the room and biting his lip.

“Marik?”

Marik jumped and burst into a fit of nervous laughter that made Bakura raise his eyebrows.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothing!” Marik protested, then sighed. “I guess there’s no point staying now with everyone gone. Let’s just go home...”

Bakura had no idea why Marik sounded so uncertain and reluctant to return home. He squinted at his boyfriend, taking in Marik’s restless squirming and the frustration making his shoulders rigid. Something was wrong but Bakura didn’t know what—he didn’t think it had anything to do with everyone abruptly leaving halfway through the meeting as Marik had been acting like this before that.

Bakura slowly rose and followed Marik out of the room, well, at least he tried to but Marik kept stepping away from Bakura as though he’d catch something dangerous from Bakura if the spirit got too close. This began to make Bakura angry and he pushed past Marik, getting himself right into Marik’s personal space and... making Marik moan?

Bakura frowned and looked at Marik’s face, confused to see the wide eyes and blush there. Marik had quickly covered his mouth with a hand, but it didn’t magically make what Bakura heard disappear. He flicked his gaze over Marik even more critically, coming to a startling yet appealing conclusion. He smirked and crossed his arms.

“Marik,” he said slyly, “are you perhaps experiencing some sort of _need_ that only I can help with, hmm?”

Marik, of course, immediately denied such a claim. He waved his arms back and forth in a panic.

“No, no, I’m fine! That would be... silly. I mean—” Marik turned his head away and chuckled lightly— “we just made love this morning! And the night before. So, surely, there’s nothing to complain about and I’m completely satisfied! Whatever I’m going through now will pass on its own, I think.”

Bakura snickered and stepped forward several steps, pleased to see Marik easily back up into the wall and trapping himself there. Marik seemed to realize this as he made an aborted glance behind him and bit back a hopeless groan. Bakura wasn’t the type to hesitate once opportunities were given to him and therefore didn’t give Marik any time to adjust before he was massaging what was between Marik’s legs with one of his hands, grinning victoriously.

“Fluffy!” Marik gasped, shaking his head. “You don’t do stuff like this h-here. It’s st-strange! I don’t want to remember this frigging moment every time I walk in here! It would suck!”

“You were already half-hard,” Bakura informed him gleefully. “No wonder you were acting like a bitch to everyone. You were horny for me the whole time.”

“I was not!” Marik shouted, legs widening and head resting against the wall despite himself. “It was going to go away! I promise! This _need_ was only temporary because sometimes my body is stupid and doesn’t remember it already frigging had you. Or—or it gets greedy. I’m sorry, ahhh.”

Bakura snorted and rolled his eyes, letting go of his grip on Marik’s penis so he could undo Marik’s trousers instead.

“Idiot. Why are you apologizing? You have no control over what your hormones get up to. If you’re aroused, you’re aroused. Deal with it.”

“I was before you—you—you’re getting on your knees.” Marik closed his eyes and bit his lip. “Kitty, that’s unhygienic! There’s so much dirt down there! Germs! Who knows what else?!”

“That’s rich coming from someone who enthusiastically eats arse like it's your last meal.”

Marik immediately grew silent, humiliated. That wasn’t Bakura’s intention but at least he stopped complaining. That meant Bakura could focus on more important things like giving his sexually frustrated boyfriend a well-deserved blowjob. He stroked the long prick for awhile, just because he could, before carefully inserting the hard length into his mouth, humming in some pleasure of his own at getting this back inside him again. He peered up at Marik as he did this, enjoying the way Marik’s mouth popped open in quiet surprise as though he hadn’t expected it to feel as good as it did.

“B-Bakura,” Marik said once he remembered himself, slowly combing his fingers through Bakura’s luxurious hair, a relieved sigh coming out his nose. “This is nice... b-but, you know, you really don’t need to service me whenever I get... like that. It’s n-not right! I don’t want to make you feel like you have to or anything.”

It was moments like these that made Bakura wonder if Marik perhaps didn’t know him at all. Like there would ever be a time Bakura didn’t want to have sex with Marik! Marik couldn’t make him feel obligated to pleasure Marik because it would never be an obligation. Gods, he had such a moron for a boyfriend!

“Shut up,” Bakura told him as he pulled back on a breath. “You’re souring my fun.”

Marik snapped his mouth shut, surprised. Then he shook with pleasure and swallowed down whatever sound wanted to escape his lips, fingers tightening in Bakura’s soft hair in appreciation.

“Ah, well, as long as you’re having fun too, I—I guess it doesn’t matter? Holy frig, baby, you’re too good at this! It’s nuts!”

Bakura smirked and continued his ministrations without anymore setbacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jewel is the next prompt. Bakura may or may not have sticky fingers next chapter...


	27. Prompt 27 - Jewel [Thieving Pussy-cat]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bakura steals a ring for Marik even though they're certified 'good guys' now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one takes place after the end of the series and Bakura—in true thiefshipping fashion—came back and has his own body. They're in a relationship again, but with the twist where they're actually supposed to be good now. Let's just say that being a normal citizen is harder for these boys than it would be for most lol. 
> 
> Rating T, No Warnings Apply.

“I got you something,” Bakura said, expression and voice completely neutral as he held out his hand palm up. “This is something you’d like, right?”

Marik leaned forward and squinted. A silver ring with a blue gemstone lay innocently in Bakura’s grip, but Marik was instantly suspicious. He clicked his tongue and went back to eating his bowl of ice cream, appreciating the cool treat now that the noon sun was making the day extremely hot. The sweat sticking to his skin was annoying him—a part of him worried he wasn’t up to par today next to how pretty Bakura looked. Bakura wasn’t the type to sweat that much since he was naturally cold.

“Where did you get that? It looks new.”

“Found it,” Bakura said shortly, stirring his own melting ice cream into a gross, messy sludge. “On the ground.”

Marik shot him a scathing glance and huffed.

“Am I supposed to frigging believe you found a pristine ring on the floor? How stupid do you actually think I am?”

Bakura opened his mouth as though he was about to answer, but Marik realized quickly he didn’t want to know. That was a subject best left untouched because it would just upset him.

“Never mind. Look, Bakura, I know you’re a thief and stealing stuff is just your thing, but we’re supposed to be good guys now, got it? We can’t go around taking whatever we want! If we get caught magic won’t be able to save us anymore! It’s harder to get away with crimes in modern times so it won’t be like when you were alive before.”

Bakura frowned, slowly curling his fingers around the ring and scooping watery cream in his mouth.

“It had your birthstone,” he said around what was in his mouth, some dripping from the corner as he attempted to still talk, “and I thought it would look nice on you. I’m not just any thief anyway, I’m the king of them, so it’s not like I’d get caught by some lowly nobody! Humph!”

Marik sighed, lips twisting to prevent the smile that wanted to rest there. He grabbed a napkin and held Bakura’s chin still, quietly cleaning up the fluid on his features. Bakura’s whole face scrunched up, but as always he didn’t pull away from Marik's care. When Marik was satisfied with his work and settled back in his seat, Bakura spoke up again with an agitated pout.

“Are you going to make me return it?”

Marik bit his lip, nervously glancing around the small ice cream parlour they were sat outside of for any snoopers. When he found none to his relief, he shook his head.

“No, of course not.”

“Should I throw it out then?”

“No...”

“Pawn it off somewhere?”

“We don’t need the money.”

“Then what the bloody hell am I supposed to do with it?!”

“Let me see it again.”

Bakura scowled but dropped the ring into Marik’s hand. Marik turned it over, admiring how attractive it actually looked and unwittingly thinking of outfits he could pair it up with. Begrudgingly, he’d admit that being good was a far harder thing for the two of them than being bad had ever been. He slipped the ring on his right pointer finger and shrugged, not looking at Bakura as he began finishing his ice cream.

“I guess I have no choice but to wear it so it doesn’t go to waste,” he said after swallowing. “Just don’t pull this again! Being evil is wrong! Bad kitty! Stop bringing gifts like this for your master!”

“You’re not my master,” Bakura grumbled, cheeks turning a rosy colour with the implication.

“Ha, spoken like a true cat!”

“Shut up.”

“My independent, wild, little pussy-cat!”

“ _Shut. Up._ ”

Marik laughed, poking Bakura’s side and watching him squirm away at the touch. Marik seized his teasing and smiled.

“Even though it was a _very bad_ thing you did today, I’m still happy that you thought of me! Thank you for the present, Fluffy!”

Bakura, embarrassed and disgruntled, quickly turned his head away and growled.

“Whatever. Idiot.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next one is Rush and let me tell you that it took me three different attempts before I wrote something I was satisfied with this prompt. Of course, it turned out to be sex when that wasn't the initial plan, but... *shrugs* it is what it is.


End file.
